


As the World Comes to an End

by alanna_the_lionheart



Series: Full of Grace [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic, Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Evil, Feels, Future Fic, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Post-Apocalypse, Quest, Reincarnation, Romance, Sequel, Sex Magic, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to “Full of Grace.” Arthur comes back from Avalon to find that he has been gone for nearly two thousand years. In a world torn apart by war, life has become simple again, yet Arthur finds himself homesick for a time that no longer exists. As Merlin and Arthur help each other cope, an ancient power rises in the Earth, threatening to destroy not only their new found happiness, but the world itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Thousand Years

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is a sequel to my post-finale story “Full of Grace.” I would recommend reading that first (it's short, promise) as it sets the stage for this story and a few things in the very beginning will not make sense otherwise. Most chapters will be PG-13, with only one rated M. Multi-chapter, work in progress. Though I have most of it plotted out and I am VERY excited about this story, I don't want to make promises about how quickly chapters will be posted. 
> 
> Story title from the unofficial Merthur theme song “King and Lionheart” by Of Monsters and Men (though you probably already knew that, and now it's probably stuck in your head).

_Howling ghosts they reappear,_

_in mountains that are stacked with fear,_

_but you're a king and I’m a lionheart._

_And in the sea that's painted black,_

_creatures lurk below the deck,_

_but you're a king and I'm a lionheart._

_And as the world comes to an end,_

_I’ll be here to hold your hand,_

_'cause you're my king and I’m your lionheart._

_~ “king and lionheart,” of monsters and men._

 

 

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Prologue: Two Thousand Years**

 

_Merlin’s asleep in the ruins of an old castle in Scotland when he feels the Earth tremble underneath him, and a voice calls to him from far away._

 

_Merlin leaps to his feet. He feels the ground pulling at him, feels a magic intense and ancient rise up from the Earth, and he couldn’t fight it even if he wanted to. He sheds his old skin without trying, feels himself grow young again, and he gasps as the magic pulls at his very core. He grabs his chest and whispers Arthur’s name._

 

_Then he blinks, and he’s at the shore of the lake of Avalon. He was just here a few weeks ago, sending little boats full of candles over the lake’s surface in memory of those who died in the last world war._

 

_He feels the Earth tremble again, and the force of it brings Merlin to his knees. He hears a voice calling to him again. Only this time, he can make out who it is._

 

_It has been centuries, millennia, since he has heard this voice. But he would know it anywhere._

 

“ _Arthur,” Merlin gasps, and when the Earth stops trembling, Merlin gets shakily to his feet as Arthur’s head breaks the surface of the water._

 

_Merlin watches in wonder as his King struggles to shore, weighed down by soggy red cloak and damp chain mail, Excalibur hanging loyally at his side._

 

_Arthur spits out a stream of water, and even from this distance Merlin can see his old friend rolling his eyes._

 

“ _Merlin, are you just going to stand there gawping or are you going to help out your King?”_

 

_Merlin laughs, and it’s been so long since he’s done so it comes out nearly hysterical. But he doesn’t care. Arthur is here. Whole and alive. He’s finally here._

 

_Arthur continues to struggle up the shore as Merlin runs, faster than he’s run in a long time, maybe ever. He reaches Arthur before he’s out of the water and the force of their meeting knocks them both off their feet. They land in the water hard. Arthur barely has time to indignantly shout out “_ __Mer_ _ _-lin!” before Merlin crashes their lips together. It's violent and passionate all at the same time, full of so many things gone unsaid for so long. Merlin kisses Arthur like he’s wanted to kiss him for more than a thousand years, and Arthur kisses him back._

 

_And it feels just like coming home._

 

~~~

 

Merlin's not sure how long the kiss lasts; it could be days for all he knows. One thing he is sure of is that, after so many years of waiting, it doesn't disappoint. It's everything Merlin has wanted and more. It means that Arthur's _alive_. After nearly two thousand years, Arthur is back, and Merlin can hardly believe it.

 

Eventually, Arthur pulls away, ending the kiss much sooner than Merlin would have liked.

 

“As much as I enjoyed that, Merlin, this lake is freezing.”

 

Merlin laughs and shakes his head, and he's shocked to find that he's crying for the first time in decades; until this moment, he thought he'd cried all the tears he could. He stands up and reaches out a hand. Arthur smiles and takes it, lets Merlin help him to his feet. Together, hands still clasped, they trudge to shore.

 

It's September, but the sun has barely risen and it's cold. They climb out of the lake and stand shivering for a few seconds before Merlin thinks to do something.

 

“ _Drÿg._ ”

 

A warm burst of air washes over them, and in an instant they're both standing by the lake dry as can be. Arthur lets go of Merlin's hand and feels his clothes, gazing down at them in awe, and Merlin wonders briefly how Arthur will react to such a direct use of magic.

 

When Arthur looks back up at him, Merlin is shocked to find that Arthur looks, of all things, put off.

 

“Merlin...are you telling me that all those nights we spent wet and freezing in the woods, all you had to do was say one word and we could have been warm and dry?”

 

“Ummm...yes?” Merlin bites his lip, trying not to laugh at the look of consternation on Arthur's face.

 

Arthur stares at him for a few seconds. Then, without warning, he smacks Merlin on the head.

 

“Clotpole.”

 

Merlin laughs in relief as he rubs the back of his head.

 

“Yeah, I missed you too.”

 

Arthur smiles at Merlin, and before he knows what's happening Merlin feels himself being pulled in for a hug. Arthur wraps his arms tightly around him, and Merlin hugs him back. It's a simple gesture, but considering they've only done this a handful of times, it speaks volumes. Neither of them says a word as they stand on the shore of Avalon and hold each other close, and neither of them really has to, because they both understand.

 

Finally, Arthur pulls away, patting Merlin companionably on the shoulder.  
  


“So, how long was I gone? Twenty years? Thirty?”

 

Merlin's heart crashes into his stomach.

 

“That's...that's how long it felt for you? A few decades?”

  
Arthur frowns as he loses himself in thought. “It didn't...I'm not sure. I remember you came to me, and you made me a promise. But I don't remember much after you left. Just flashes here and there. It can't have been that long, can it?”

 

Merlin falls silent, which seems to be enough of an answer for Arthur.

 

Arthur pulls his hand away from Merlin's shoulder.

 

“Merlin...how long was I gone?”

 

Merlin gulps. How can he possibly tell Arthur that he's been gone for nearly two millennia?

 

“Arthur...maybe you should sit down.”

 

And for the first time that Merlin can think of, Arthur does what he asks without protest. He sits down on the ground hard, and Merlin can just see the gears turning in his head.

 

“One hundred. Has it been a hundred?”

 

Merlin kneels next to him on the ground and replies, “More.”

 

Arthur's eyes grow wide. “Two hundred. It can't be more than that.”

 

“Arthur-”

 

“Okay, three hundred. Surely it can't be much longer than that.” Panic is starting to seep into Arthur's voice, and Merlin can't bear it.

 

“Arthur...it's the year 2512. You've been gone for almost two thousand years.”

 

Merlin is grateful that Arthur agreed to sit, because the look on his face makes it clear that he would have crashed to the ground otherwise.

 

“Two...two _thousand_ years?”

 

Merlin wants to say something, but he has no idea what could possibly help in this situation. In the end, all he can do is nod.

 

Arthur shakes his head, and Merlin watches as tears rise in his eyes.

 

“No,” Arthur states emphatically, as if he can make it true by simply saying it.

 

Merlin watches helplessly as Arthur stands, walks away from him, and begins to pace. It's a nervous habit Arthur has always had, born from too many sleepless nights and too much stress, one that has always made Merlin feel useless. He watches Arthur pace now, mumbling quietly to himself, until he can't stand it.

 

Merlin gets to his feet and slowly approaches his king. Arthur pauses only when Merlin rests a hand gently on his shoulder and whispers his name. Arthur turns away toward the lake, trembling slightly under Merlin's touch.

 

“Merlin...that promise you made to me. Please...tell me that you....” Arthur trails off, unable to finish his thought, but Merlin knows what he wants.

 

Gently, almost shyly, Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur from behind. When Arthur doesn't flinch away, Merlin pulls him as close as he can. He feels Arthur's chest rise and fall with breath, feels his heart beat with life, and it's the sweetest feeling in the world. He rests his head on Arthur's shoulder, his lips close to Arthur's ear so he doesn't miss a word.

 

“I kept my promise to you, Arthur. I didn't live alone. I saved lives, I helped people. I did what you asked me to do. I met a lot of people in two thousand years, Arthur, and I loved some of them as well as I could. But none of them were ever _you_.”

 

Arthur bows his head in response before reaching down, grabbing Merlin's hands, and holding on tight. Merlin waits patiently as Arthur slows his breathing and calms down.

 

Finally, Arthur gently pries Merlin's arms off of him and turns to face him.

 

“Merlin...what happened to Camelot?”

 

Memories flood Merlin's mind, and he smiles sadly as he answers, “Let me show you.”

 

_...tbc..._

 

 

Reviews are appreciated as always. :)

 

 


	2. Starry Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's my birthday, and this is my present to you guys! Wait, I think I did that backwards. Oh, well. Enjoy!

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter One: Starry Night**

 

After Gwen's death, with no true heir to the throne, Merlin tries his hardest to keep the kingdom together. He becomes a good mentor to the man who takes the throne next, and for awhile Merlin finds himself hopeful for Camelot's future. But then the king dies unexpectedly, of a disease Merlin finds himself powerless to cure, leaving his wife to rule in his stead. The Queen, always jealous of how close Merlin and her husband were, goes against Merlin's council and marries a monster of man who becomes the start of Camelot's downfall.

 

A hundred years after Gwen's passing, Merlin can't bear to watch the death of the kingdom he and Arthur had worked so hard to build, and so he sheds the old man, becomes himself as he was when Arthur knew him, and he leaves.

 

Centuries after Arthur’s death, he meets a woman who reminds him how to love. She loves him for who he is, reminds him that he has so much to offer the world, and he falls for her. He grows old with her, never telling her that he has magic. She dies in his arms, and as he weeps, he sheds the old man once more and moves on.

She gives him the courage to leave what’s left of Albion and see the world. He watches civilizations rise and fall. Watches countries grow and flourish. He finds causes, fights in wars.

In the early 1200's, Merlin finds himself in Ireland, and it's there that he meets a brave young man named Matthew. His courage, his kindness, and his strength remind him so much of Arthur that Merlin wonders at first if it's really him come back after all this time. But in the end, they get along too well, and though Merlin knows that this man isn't really Arthur, he falls for him hard and fast.

 

They're allowed ten glorious years together. Then one night, Merlin wakes to what feels like his heart being torn out of his body, and he's on his feet before he even knows where he's going. He reaches the tavern just in time to see a man rip his sword out of Matthew's chest. The man and his five companions are dead before they hit the ground. The woman they had been attempting to rape when Matthew came by to help her runs away in terror. Merlin holds Matthew's body in his arms and screams his anguish to the skies, but Kilgarrah is long dead and there's no one to answer him.

 

Merlin builds a funeral pyre for Matthew, and as the fire soars into the night sky, Merlin gathers his few meager belongings and starts walking.

 

It's not until he passes by the Crystal Caves that he realizes where he's going.

 

In the year 1232, Merlin finds himself in Camelot for the first time since he left so long ago.

 

He wanders through what is left of the town, and then the castle itself. A few towers remain standing here and there, a few walls and turrets, but Camelot lies in ruins. Merlin stops at what he remembers to be the stairs leading into the castle, and he sits down on them and weeps.

 

When he awakens the next morning, tears dried on his face, he finds himself with a strong resolve, the likes of which he hasn't felt in a long time.

 

He places a powerful spell on the castle, one that leaves him drained of energy but feeling accomplished. Camelot will remain untouched by time, untouched by human hands and weather. Camelot will stay as he has found it for as long as his magic will hold. Because Merlin knows that Arthur will return someday, and he wants him to have something of his old life to visit.

 

But as he turns to go, another idea comes to him. He walks until he finds the clearing where he and Arthur faced off against Kilgarrah so many centuries ago. And there, in the woods next to the clearing, Merlin builds a small cottage.

 

It's not much, but it doesn't need to be.

 

In the years to come, Merlin returns often, staying for weeks, sometimes years, at a time. He strengthens the spell on Camelot and works on his cottage, filling it with mementos of the changing world. Each time he returns it gets a little bit easier. Though he still remembers what it was like to wander those halls after Arthur's death, after Gwen's death, in the days of tyrannical rule, he also remembers the good times. Drinking in the tavern with Arthur and the knights. The day Arthur was crowned king. The night Arthur gave him his mother's sigil.

 

Merlin clings to the good memories as tightly as he can, and whenever he visits the Lake of Avalon he sits on the shore and whispers new stories into the air, hoping the wind will carry them across the water to Arthur.

 

But he only tells him the good stories, because the bad ones are just too painful.

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin's made the journey from Avalon to Camelot many times. Dozens, hundreds, he's lost count over the years. On foot, it usually takes three days.

 

As they walk, Merlin begins to tell Arthur about what happened while he was gone. He starts with the early history of the world after Camelot fell and works his way through time. Covering 2000 years of history is no easy feat, and Merlin knows he's leaving things out, but Arthur listens attentively, soaking up everything he hears.

 

When Merlin begins to talk about lands outside of Albion (which Merlin explains is now called England), Arthur's eyes widen. He explains that he never really thought about how there could be a world outside of Albion. Merlin talks about time spent in Europe, South America, Asia, and Africa. He talks about the wars, but he also talks about the happier things: rising civilizations, an explosion in knowledge about science, art, philosophy. Arthur is most interested in hearing about the Renaissance, the Age of Enlightenment; those times when man learned and evolved and made beautiful things.

 

Merlin's just finished discussing Shakespeare (more like _gushing_ about Shakespeare, really) when they need to stop and try to find some food. The land they've been traveling through for the past few hours is unpopulated, still heavily forested. Merlin has become a much better hunter in the years since Arthur passed, and he manages to snag them a rabbit and hunt down some berries and nuts.

 

After lunch, they continue walking, and Merlin tells Arthur more about the history of the world. He tells him about America, the battles they fought for their independence, and the internal struggles they fought to become the country they wanted to be. He tells Arthur about how he fought for the Union in the American Civil War, and how more than half a million people were dead by the end of the country's bloodiest war.

 

Arthur grows quiet for awhile after that, and as the sun starts to set they walk in silence.

 

“Half a million people dead. I didn't know wars could be so bloody.”

 

Merlin laughs bitterly. “Believe me, that's nothing.”

 

Arthur stops walking and looks at him. “Half a million people is _nothing_?”

 

Merlin pauses. “The past five hundred years haven't been...easy. I'm sorry, Arthur.”

 

Arthur shakes his head. “The world sounds so _big_ , Merlin. I had no idea.”

 

“I know,” Merlin answers quietly. “It's a lot to take in. Maybe we should stop for the night.”

 

So they find a cozy clearing and settle in. Merlin helps Arthur remove his armor without thinking twice, resting Excalibur against a tree, just like old times. They gather firewood, and when the fire is built, Merlin lights it with magic.

 

He remembers the first time he did this in front of Arthur, and he looks up to gauge his reaction. This time, instead of looking hurt and disappointed, he smiles at him, and Merlin feels his heart clench at the almost fond look on Arthur's face.

 

They lie down to sleep close to the fire. Merlin wears the cloak he had on when he was called away from the castle ruins, but Arthur has only his old clothes. After ten minutes of listening to Arthur shiver, Merlin gets up and moves closer. He lies down next to him, takes off his cloak, and wordlessly covers them both as best he can. Arthur turns toward Merlin, wraps his arms around him, and sighs sleepily. Merlin smiles as he shifts closer to Arthur's chest and rests his head under Arthur's chin. He whispers a quick spell, and as the air under the cloak warms, Arthur actually chuckles.

 

When they wake at sunrise, warm and well rested, Merlin finds himself still wrapped tightly in Arthur's arms, Arthur's breath warm against his forehead, and he feels truly happy for the first time in a long time.

 

* * *

 

That morning, Merlin goes into the woods and manages to kill another rabbit using his magic. After all these years, killing with magic still makes him a bit uneasy, but as they need to eat, he overlooks it. He returns to their camp with the kill and begins to prepare it, waiting for Arthur to return.

 

Half an hour later, the rabbit is roasting and Arthur comes out of the woods hefting a crudely crafted spear and dragging a small deer behind him. He drops the deer at Merlin's feet.

 

“And _that_ is how you hunt. Two thousand years and you're still terrible at it, _Mer_ lin.” Arthur smiles smugly at him, and the look is so familiar Merlin can't help but laugh.

 

After they've cooked the deer and eaten their fill, Merlin wraps up as much of the deer meat as he can in his cloak and hefts it over his shoulder. Then they continue their journey to Camelot.

 

* * *

 

As they walk, Merlin tells Arthur more about the history of the world. As he reaches the Age of Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution, the land around them begins to change. They pass by abandoned farms at first, which give way to small villages. The villages are empty, like ghost towns, and Merlin leads them past slowly and quietly, as though he's paying homage to the people who used to live there; to a way of life that no longer exists.

 

Their feet hit a smooth path outside one village, and Arthur's not sure what to make of it. Merlin explains that it's a road, paved smooth to make it easier for people to travel. They walk along the road, on the outskirts of a large town, and Arthur points out things he doesn't understand. Telephone poles, light posts, steel buildings, the list goes on. Merlin does his best to explain them. When they find an abandoned car on the side of the road, Arthur eyes it warily.

 

Merlin decides it's time to stop for dinner.

 

As they eat more of their deer, Merlin tells Arthur about telephones, electricity, steel and plastic, airplanes, cars, computers, and spaceships. He explains it all in terms he thinks Arthur will understand, but he's not surprised when Arthur says it just sounds like a lot of magic to him. Merlin assures him that it's not magic, but science, and while Arthur believes him, it doesn't make it any easier for Arthur to accept that people can fly, or talk to people on the other side of the world, or land on the moon.

 

Hours later, Merlin's just finished talking about how man was in the process of attempting to terraform Mars so it could support life when Arthur tells him to stop.

 

Merlin smiles understandingly. “I know it's a lot to take in. Sometimes I look back myself and I can barely believe everything that's happened. The world has come a long way since you were King of Camelot, Arthur.”

 

“Yes...I'm getting that,” Arthur replies tiredly. “I wish I could have seen it, Merlin. I wish that we....” Arthur looks down at the ground quietly, but Merlin knows what he wants to say. He wishes they could have seen it together, too.

 

Merlin looks down at the ground, lost in painful memories. “I know. It was amazing. All of it. And now it's all gone.”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur touches his chin and gently lifts his face up. “What happened to this world?”

 

“It's...it's a long story, Arthur. I don't think-”

 

“It's all right,” Arthur says quickly, letting go. “I understand. It's getting late. We should find somewhere to stay for the night.”

 

And with that, they head into the town.

 

* * *

 

The town is eerie in the dark. Quiet, empty buildings. Cars lie abandoned everywhere, as if the world just picked up one day and moved on.

 

“It's like a ghost town,” Arthur says quietly, and Merlin shivers slightly. He stops next to a broken down fountain.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur looks back at him in confusion.

 

“ _We_ did this.” Merlin says it so quietly that Arthur almost has trouble hearing him.

 

Arthur takes a few steps closer to Merlin. “What do you mean?”

 

“ _We_ did this. Mankind. We lost sight of what really matters: courage, chivalry, kindness...duty and honor. The things that used to matter, back when you were king and times were simpler. We got greedy. Started craving everything that was bad for us. Land, money, power. We ruined the world, Arthur. _We_ did this. We-”

 

“Merlin.”

 

He stops babbling when he realizes that he's crying, and he doesn't know when he started. Arthur reaches out and brushes the tears off his face.

 

“It's all right, Merlin.” He holds Merlin's face gently in his hands, lifts his head up, and kisses him firmly. Merlin leans into the kiss, loses himself in it. When they finally pull apart, he breathes deeply.

 

“There, all better,” Arthur says with a smile. “Come on.” He grabs Merlin's hand and leads him on.

 

They stop at one of the less decrepit houses. Inside they find more remnants of a technological age ended abruptly. Merlin shows Arthur computers, refrigerators, televisions, showers, and indoor plumbing. Shows him ovens that heat up food within seconds, microchips as small as pennies that can hold millions of terabytes of data, machines that can project images along entire walls and objects within rooms. Nothing works, but it's still enough to make Arthur's jaw drop, and Merlin can't keep himself from laughing at the look on his friend's face. Arthur rolls his eyes and smacks Merlin on the head, calling him an idiot for good measure.

 

In the bedroom, they find a dresser and closet full of clothes, and Merlin pulls out a few things for Arthur and himself. Arthur makes a face at the weird styles: pants that look tight and uncomfortable, jackets with hoods on them, and shoes that just look impractical. Merlin gives him a few pairs of pants, shirts, a hoodie, a warm winter jacket, and a pair of practical hiking boots he manages to dig out of the closet.

 

“It'll take some getting used to, but I think you'll like it. The hoodie is actually pretty comfortable.”

 

Arthur just frowns at the clothes Merlin has laid out on the bed, and Merlin sighs. “You don't have to wear them right now, Arthur. But we'll take them with us. I think you'll be glad for them eventually.”

 

In the end, Arthur nods, and Merlin packs up their new clothes in a pair of backpacks he finds in the closet and takes a set of clothes for himself. He leaves Arthur sitting on the bed and goes to the bathroom to change. Then he raids the pantry, but he can't find any salvageable food. Luckily he manages to find a stash of water bottles hidden in the cupboards, and he utters a quick spell just to make sure the water in them will be clean. He puts the water bottles in a duffel bag, then takes the remainder of their food out of his ratty cloak and stows it in there as well. Merlin removes the few important objects he has stored in his cloak pockets and moves them to the pockets of the jacket he took from the closet. Then he heads back to Arthur.

 

He finds Arthur sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, attempting to remove his armor.

 

“Here, let me help you.” Merlin removes the armor slowly, and Arthur whispers a quiet “thank you” when he's done. Merlin lays their new bags on the floor next to Arthur's armor. He removes his jacket and places it on the pile while Arthur leans Excalibur against the wall next to the bed.

 

Without a word, they crawl under the covers, and Merlin has just enough time to think that he could get used to being wrapped up in Arthur's arms before he falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

Merlin wakes in the middle of the night to find the bed cold and empty next to him.

 

“Arthur?”

 

Instinct tells him to panic when he doesn't receive an answer, but he calms his breathing and reaches out with his magic instead. He senses Arthur sitting quietly outside the house, and he sighs with relief as he gets out of bed.

 

He finds Arthur sitting on the stoop outside the house, staring up at the night sky with a look on his face that seems both awed and happy.

 

“Arthur?”

 

Merlin sits down next to him, and Arthur continues to stare at the sky as he answers.

 

“They're the same ones I remember. The stars.”

 

Merlin gazes up and finds the sky clear and bright, full of stars that he hasn't really looked at in quite some time.

 

“So much has changed since I died, Merlin. But not the stars. It's...comforting. To think that despite all this time, there are still some things that don't change. They're like a little bit of home.”

 

Merlin smiles happily, and he reaches out and takes one of Arthur's hands gently in one of his own. Arthur squeezes it gratefully and looks over at Merlin.

 

“They're still beautiful, too. Just like I remember. It's hard for me to think that people have been up there. Close enough to reach out and touch them. It must have been amazing.”

 

Merlin laughs, and he looks up at the sky.

 

“It was.”

 

And so Merlin tells Arthur about the time he went into space. It was the year 2269, three hundred years after man first landed on the moon, and the US had decided to make space travel available to the civilian population. It was incredibly expensive, but he'd simply used a bit of magic to build up his bank account. Merlin usually balked at the idea of using his magic for financial gain, but this was something he simply hadn't wanted to miss out on. So he'd spent four glorious weeks in outer space, landed on the moon, and even been able to fly past Mars and see the work they were doing to terraform the planet.

 

“You can never really touch the stars, Arthur. They're too far away. Outer space is beautiful. But it's also big, and...well, kind of lonely.”

 

Arthur smiles at him fondly. He removes his hand from Merlin's, then puts his arm around Merlin's shoulder. Merlin leans into the touch, rests his head on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur moves his hand slowly up Merlin's arm, over his neck, and runs his fingers through his hair gently.

 

“You've been through so much, Merlin. I hope you didn't do it alone.”

 

Merlin smiles against Arthur's shoulder. “No, I didn't. Some prat made me promise that I wouldn't.”

 

Arthur laughs. “Well, I'm glad he did.” He wraps his arm back around Merlin, then reaches over with his other hand and grasps Merlin's hand tightly in his own. They sit like that for awhile, staring up at the stars in silence, until Merlin shivers and Arthur suggests they go back to bed.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, after a breakfast of deer meat, berries, and bottled water, Merlin gathers their bags together and finds Arthur staring at his armor.

 

“Arthur...you don't have to put it back on. You won't really need it in this world.”

 

Arthur stares thoughtfully for another minute, then shakes his head.

 

“I know. But I want to wear it just awhile longer. Until we get to Camelot. I want to bring it home. It reminds me of a time when honor and courage and friendship were what mattered.” Arthur pauses, then looks up at Merlin, tears shining in the corners of his eyes. “It reminds me of what the world needs.”

 

Merlin loves him so much in this moment he thinks his heart might burst. He steps closer to Arthur and kisses him tenderly, like it's the only thing he could ever want. When he pulls away, Arthur moans slightly at the loss.

 

“The world needs _you_ , Arthur. That's why you're back.”

 

_...tbc..._


	3. I'm Gonna Make This Place Your Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s rated M. This is my first explicit Merthur, and I’m kind of nervous about it. I really hope I did it justice.

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Two: I'm Gonna Make This Place Your Home**

 

As they continue their journey the next morning, Arthur wants to hear more about how the world got “ruined.” He’s curious how a world that has cars and electricity and flights into space could just cease to exist. But he doesn’t want to push Merlin; he’d seemed so upset the night before. So he waits until they sit down for lunch.

 

As he chews thoughtfully on what’s left of their deer, Merlin begins to tell him about World Wars: wars so extreme, so huge, that entire countries joined together to fight other countries; wars that split the entire world in half. And he doesn’t just hear about one, or even two, though the second one is bad enough (six million people killed just for being different? Arthur can’t fathom it).

 

Then he hears about a bunch of small wars with a few radical countries that had such strong convictions in their beliefs that no one else could be allowed to think differently. The small wars led to a third World War, which ended in nearly half a billion deaths. The world took almost 300 years to recuperate.

 

And then people got greedy. The US was looking to colonize Mars, and the other world super powers couldn’t stand to watch them take over space when they were already too powerful for their own good (or so their logic went). In the end, the US and a few allies, including Britain, went to war with the rest of the world.

 

Greed, lust for power and land, and technological advances carried a destruction no one could have predicted or prepared for. Most of the world’s major cities were destroyed. World leaders were assassinated left and right. Governments fell apart, and people fled as far as they could to the mountains and countryside, where they waited it out.

 

By the end of WWIV, no one knew quite how many were dead; the ones who were left could barely begin to grasp the enormity of it. Merlin himself wasn’t sure, but he estimated at least half of the world’s population lay dead.

 

He suffered horrible nightmares for weeks, heard screams and watched people burn alive in his dreams.

 

He returned to the lake of Avalon and found it undisturbed. He stayed by its waters for a week, and eventually the nightmares stopped. Merlin lit candles and floated them across the water on crude wooden boats to mourn the loss of not just 3 billion lives, but a way of life that had once held such promise.

 

When Merlin’s done talking, he’s shaking, and Arthur pulls him into his arms without a word and just holds him until the tremors cease.

 

Eventually, Merlin pulls away, eyes still dry.

 

“We’re responsible for our own demise, Arthur. Greed, thirst for power, jealousy. WE'RE to blame. The people who lived here spread out into the countryside, away from the dust and the smoke that still clogs the air around the big cities. Nothing grows on half of the planet anymore. People live simply now. More like they used to in the days of Camelot. They live off the land, fend for themselves. There’s no electricity or running water. Most villages just live on their own, support themselves. No one’s really risen to seize power yet, though I know someone will someday. Man never changes. But for now, I think the world’s just trying to….”

 

“Heal.”

 

Merlin smiles bitterly. “Yeah.”

 

They sit quietly for a minute. Finally, Arthur speaks.

 

“Well, I’ve come back for a reason. Maybe I’m meant to help the world rebuild itself.”

 

Merlin smiles. “I hope so. I can’t imagine anyone better suited for the job.”

 

Arthur beams at him, and the look is so endearing, so genuine, that Merlin feels his heart flutter, almost like he’s a teenager with a crush all over again.

 

Arthur kisses him slowly and tenderly. When he pulls away, he whispers, “I’m glad you’re here, Merlin.”

 

Arthur looks at him for a long time, and when he finally tears his gaze away he stares at the ground, and Merlin can see that he’s blushing.

 

Wanting to ease his embarrassment, Merlin smacks him on the back as hard as he can.

 

“Where else would I be? You never _could_ get on without me, dollophead.”

 

Arthur laughs out loud, and it’s just like old times. Especially when Arthur calls him an idiot before shoving his face into the ground until Merlin apologizes.

 

* * *

 

 

They walk in companionable silence for most of the day. They pass a few more villages along the way, all deserted. Merlin explains that this part of the country stayed sparsely populated throughout the years. A few farms, small villages, nothing major. Merlin tells Arthur a bit about cities he hasn’t seen. Places where towers of steel climb into the clouds, cars clog up the air with smog and pollution, and the rich and poor live together.

 

"Where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer," Merlin puts it.

 

Arthur points out that Merlin seems to hate the old world he’s talking about.

 

Merlin shakes his head and admits that maybe part of him does. But then he tells Arthur about the good things, too. Chances to learn and grow, families, equal opportunities for women and people of all races and backgrounds.

 

Equality in marriage.

 

It took a long time for people to get used to the idea of same sex couples, but changes in political policy in many countries helped pave the way toward acceptance. There was always some bigotry and ignorance to be found, but by the 2300’s most people had embraced the idea of “Love for All, Hate for None.”

 

Arthur smiles. “Back in Camelot, I never would’ve dreamed of a day when people could think like that. When you could be free to love whomever you chose.”

 

Merlin nods. “Man didn’t just evolve in bad ways, Arthur. We grew to do good things, too. I guess it’s just that…evil has a way of being more powerful than good.”

 

Arthur stops walking, and Merlin is forced to turn around. The look on Arthur’s face is hard to read, yet the tone of his voice when he speaks belies his bitterness.

 

“The years have made you a cynic, Merlin."

  
Merlin shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Arthur. It’s just that-”

 

“I know. I understand,” Arthur replies hurriedly, taking a few steps closer. “It's just…what happened to the Merlin I used to know? The one who always believed that courage, kindness, and faith were enough to fight anything?”

 

Merlin feels tears rise in his eyes, and he can’t meet Arthur’s gaze when he answers.

 

“He had to live for 2000 years without his best friend.”

 

“Merlin.”

 

At the sadness in Arthur’s voice, Merlin draws up his courage and looks at him. Arthur leans in like he wants to kiss him, but in the end he sighs and pulls Merlin into a hug. Arthur wraps his arms around his shoulders and holds on tight. Merlin sighs gratefully and hugs him in return.

 

Arthur tilts his head up and whispers softly into Merlin’s ear.

 

“I’ll change your mind. We’ll get the old Merlin back. I promise.”

 

When Arthur finally lets go, he smiles at Merlin and offers his hand.

 

“C’mon, Merlin. Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

 

At the fireside that night, Merlin tells Arthur what happened in Camelot after his passing. He tells of how he didn’t return for a long time, and how Gwen accepted him when he finally did. When he tells Arthur how Gwen eventually married Leon, Arthur smiles and says he’s grateful that she found someone.

 

Merlin tells Arthur about Percival: how they found common ground in their grief, spent a few nights together after Merlin’s return, ended their affair on good terms, and remained close friends until he died ten years later.

 

He tells of how Leon passed away, and how Gwen passed five years later, leaving no heirs. He tells of the young man who took the throne after her death and showed such promise.

 

As he tells Arthur about the fall of Camelot, of how powerless he was to stop it, Arthur grows quiet. As he finishes the story with him leaving Camelot in despair, Arthur gets up from the fire and walks away.

 

Merlin allows him a few minutes alone. Then he rises and approaches him tentatively. Arthur’s staring up at the stars when Merlin puts a hand gently on his shoulder.

 

“Is there anything left, Merlin?” Arthur asks quietly.

 

“Not much. Parts of the town are still there, and the castle. In the early 13th century I went back and I…I put an enchantment over it. To protect it. I thought that…well, I thought you’d like to see it one last time. Just to, you know….”

 

“Say goodbye. Yes.” Arthur reaches up a hand and wipes his eyes. When he looks back at Merlin he looks stronger somehow. “We should get some sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, they finish their walk to Camelot. It’s only about a two hour journey, and they make it in silence. Arthur looks lost deep in his thoughts, and Merlin walks quietly beside him. As the walls of Camelot finally come into view, Merlin reaches over and takes Arthur’s hand. Arthur squeezes it gratefully.

 

The lower town is in ruins. Houses torn and burned down, buildings collapsed. Merlin is just able to make out where he knows the tavern used to be, and he can’t help but smile.

 

Arthur just continues to hold his hand tightly as he walks in silence, looking around sadly at the once proud city now reduced to so much rubble.

 

As they get closer to the castle, piles of wood become piles of stone. Few buildings remain standing, and those that do remain standing only because of Merlin’s spell.

 

Arthur stops at what used to be the castle walls, and Merlin notices how he starts to shake.

 

“Arthur…we don’t have to-”

 

“Stay with me. Please.”

 

It’s the first thing Arthur’s said all day, and Merlin smiles and squeezes his hand tightly.

 

“Always.”

 

* * *

 

 

They spend an hour walking through Camelot’s ruins. Small sections of the outer walls, towers, and main castle still stand, but most of it has been destroyed by the war that ended Camelot, and the passage of so many years. Merlin points out where the stables used to be, the training field, the tower where he lived with Gaius.

 

Finally, they reach the main stairs leading up into the castle. The upper floors are all gone, including Arthur’s room, but Merlin explains that this portion of the castle, including the throne room, hasn’t been touched nearly as hard by the elements.  He asks Arthur if he wants to go inside, assuring him that the spell he’s placed on the castle will keep them safe. Arthur stands in silence for a long time, but when he finally nods, Merlin leads him up the stairs.

 

As they walk down the hallways, Merlin can only imagine what’s going through Arthur’s head. If it’s anything like what went through Merlin’s head when he returned here so long ago, then Arthur must be picturing hallways full of sunlight, bright tapestries, and stone statues. He must be picturing people moving briskly: servants, knights, men and women going about their day. Arthur looks around at what little is left. Sections of the walls and ceiling have caved in, and the castle is bathed in sunlight. Plants grow up the walls, statues lie broken, tapestries long eaten by moths and insects.

 

It’s eerily quiet, and Merlin shivers without warning. Arthur stops next to him, pulled from his trance, and he gasps, tears rising in his eyes. He whispers Merlin’s name, and he sounds so lost that Merlin feels his heart break. He turns to Arthur and grasps his face gently between his hands, wiping away his tears. He kisses him softly, caressing his lips with his own.

 

“I’m right here,” Merlin promises.

 

Arthur lets out a long, deep breath, and then nods. Merlin grabs his hand again and they keep walking.

 

When they finally reach the throne room, Arthur gasps. The ceiling has fallen in completely, and the room is wide open to the sky above. A few resilient trees have pushed their way up through the ground, and the air is full of the sound of birds chirping. All the furniture in the room has been completely destroyed. But where the throne used to sit, a large tree has burst through the wall and eaten through the floor, and it stands tall and proud at the end of the room.

 

Merlin smiles. This part of the castle has always amazed him. It’s the one part where Merlin has altered his spell slightly. Here he has allowed the trees to grow and the birds to sing. He finds the throne room more beautiful now in a way than he did in the days of Camelot.

 

He looks over at Arthur to gauge his reaction, and he’s pleased to find that although he’s crying silently, he’s smiling through his tears.

 

“It’s beautiful, Merlin.”

 

Arthur keeps his hold on Merlin’s hand as he leads him into the room.

 

* * *

 

 

They spend the next two hours wandering and talking. They sit at the base of the big tree, and Merlin tells him stories of Camelot after Arthur’s death. He tries to tell him only happy stories, though many of them seem to turn inevitably sad. Arthur recalls some of the happier times they spent in Camelot. Going on hunts, fighting dragons and wyverns, arguing over how Merlin was a terrible servant.

 

Arthur never lets go of Merlin’s hand.

 

Finally, Arthur stands, dragging Merlin to his feet. He turns and stares at the tree.

 

“Thank you for bringing me here, Merlin. It…it means a lot to me that you’re here. It’s as if, even though Camelot is gone, a small part of me still feels like I’m….” He pauses, then turns to Merlin and smiles at him fondly. “Like I’m _home_.”

 

Wordlessly, Merlin reaches out and pulls Arthur into a tight hug, and neither of them lets go for a long time.

 

When they do, Arthur takes off his cloak and lays it gently on a low hanging branch of the tree. The golden dragon waves softly in the breeze, and the sunlight glinting down sets it aglow.

 

Merlin whispers a few words, his eyes glowing gold like the dragon. The cloak shimmers for a second, then returns to normal.

 

“There. Now time will not touch this, either. The last sigil of the Once and Future King.”

 

Arthur laughs. “The _what_?”

 

Merlin can’t keep the grin off his face at the memory of Kilgarrah. “It’s just something an old friend said to me once.”

 

Arthur shakes his head. “Always a mystery, Merlin. Come on, let’s go.”

 

And Arthur takes his hand once more and leads them out of the throne room.

 

* * *

 

 

They exit the castle to find the sun high up in the sky. Back outside, with the majesty of the throne room behind them, the ruin and destruction seems to seep into Merlin’s bones. He turns to look at Arthur, and from the look on his face, he must be feeling it, too.

 

“Arthur…if you’re ready to go…there’s one more place I want you to see.”

 

Arthur frowns at him. “What is it?”

 

Merlin smiles proudly. “It’s a surprise. Let me show you.”

 

Arthur still looks puzzled, but he nods, and Merlin leads him quietly out of Camelot.

 

* * *

 

 

“Merlin…you built all this? By yourself?”

 

Merlin laughs. “Don’t sound so surprised. Yes, I built this. With my own two hands, too. No magic required. Well…there was the spell to keep it from collapsing, but other than that….”

 

It’s a small one room hut. Kitchen, table, two chairs, two large bookshelves against one wall. The huge bed is the only sign of luxury in the place. It’s small, quaint; perfect for just one, and yet capable of accommodating two.

 

“It’s not much,” Merlin admits humbly. “Just a place I would come to sometimes to think. To get away from the world.”

 

Arthur turns to him and grins. “It’s perfect,” he says sincerely, and Merlin beams with pride.

 

He happily shows Arthur around the small cottage. While it’s lacking in modern conveniences, diagrams, photographs, and art cover the walls. Merlin shows Arthur DaVinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Van Gogh, Picasso, Dali. Arthur marvels over all of it, especially the photographs. The Taj Mahal, Pyramids of Giza, Empire State Building, Great Wall of China. He doesn’t understand how photos can manage to look so real. His favorite is a glossy photo of Earth seen from space. If Merlin hadn’t already explained space travel to him he would’ve said it was a picture of someone’s dream.

 

Then Merlin sits down on the floor with Arthur and shows him some of his favorite books. Beowulf, Chaucer, Shakespeare, the Grimm Brothers, T.H. White (“He got quite a few things right, actually.”). He shows him Poe, Lovecraft, and Stoker. Hemingway, Twain, and Whitman. Frost, Browning, Keats, Tennyson, Shelley. Tolkein, CS Lewis, George R.R. Martin, Suzanne Collins. Merlin especially enjoys telling Arthur about a certain boy wizard named Harry Potter.

 

Arthur seems to enjoy the children’s stories most. Alice in Wonderland, Dahl, Sendak, Beatrix Potter, Silverstein. AA Milne holds a special place in Merlin’s heart. Arthur becomes strangely attached to a book of Dr. Seuss stories, and Merlin reads him “The Sneetches,” “Yertle the Turtle,” and “Green Eggs and Ham.” He reads “Horton Hears a Who” to him twice (“This Dr. Seuss: he seems to know what really matters. Was he a famous physician like Gaius?”).

 

At this point, the sun is sinking low. Merlin lights a few candles while Arthur cooks what’s left of the rabbit they caught for breakfast.

 

Merlin smiles as he sets out the plates. “My how the tables have turned.”

 

“Come again?” Arthur asks, glancing up from the fireplace.

 

“I never thought I’d see the day when the king of Camelot cooked food for his lowly servant.”

 

Arthur throws a piece of unlit firewood at him from across the room, and Merlin laughs as he deflects it with his magic.

 

“Cheater.”

 

They eat at the table, and Merlin appreciates how something as simple as dinner with Arthur can feel so good.

 

When Merlin’s cleaned up, using water from the well he’s built in the backyard (“are you _sure_ you didn’t use magic?”), Arthur sits down on the edge of the bed.

 

Eventually, Merlin sits down next to him.

 

“What’s on your mind?”

 

Arthur smiles, but it’s a sad sort of smile.

 

“I like this place, Merlin. I do. It’s just…seeing Camelot like that. Knowing that everyone I once knew is just...gone. It’s….” He bows his head and goes quiet, and Merlin reaches out and squeezes his hand firmly.

 

“I want to show you something.”

 

Merlin stands and goes to his jacket. From the pocket he withdraws a small leather pouch. He retrieves another small object from the bookshelf and sits back down next to Arthur.

 

“My father made this for me the night before he died.”

 

And Merlin hands Arthur a small hand carved wooden dragon. Arthur stares at it for a minute before his eyes light up with realization.

 

“The Dragonlord. Your father, he was…oh, _Merlin._ I’m so sorry. That explains why you were so upset when…and you had only just met him. Merlin….”

 

The small dragon has already been worn smooth by Merlin’s hands, and Arthur fingers the soft wood gently, as though he’s afraid it might break.

 

“‘No man is worth your tears,’” Merlin says quietly, lost deep in memories.

 

Arthur looks up sharply. “I was wrong about that, you know.”

 

Merlin laughs. “I know. You were wrong about a lot of things.”

 

“Hey!” Arthur smacks him on the arm, and Merlin just smiles. Then he opens up the pouch and pulls out a folded piece of paper. It looks old, very old, and it creaks like it will crumble to dust any second. Merlin unfolds it carefully, and Arthur puts down the dragon and takes it.

 

“Merlin, this looks like one of those fotter…potter….”

 

“Photographs.”

 

“Pho-to-graphs on the wall. Only…it’s _me_.”

 

Merlin grins. “Yeah. I made it using magic. That night we went to the tavern and I won all your money.”

 

“That night you… _Mer_ lin?” The tone of Arthur’s voice changes faster than Merlin thought possible, and he has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Did you use _magic_ to win?”

 

Merlin tries to look indignant, but he's pretty sure Arthur can see through it. “Me? _Cheat?_ Arthur, I can’t believe you'd accuse _me_ of-”

 

“ _MERlin._ ”

 

Merlin can’t help himself. He bursts out laughing, and it’s the only answer Arthur needs. Arthur smacks him upside the head and calls him an idiot, and it’s about what Merlin expected. When Merlin's laughter dies down and Arthur doesn't look like he wants to hit him anymore, he explains.

 

“I made it when I got home that morning. I…I wanted something to remember the night by. I never thought…I had no idea how grateful I’d be for it so soon.”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur sounds touched, but sad, and he reaches out and rubs his hand gently along Merlin’s back.

 

“I’m grateful: this way I could never forget what you looked like," Merlin responds sadly.

 

They sit in silence for a minute as Merlin pulls himself together, Arthur continuing to rub his back.

 

Eventually, Merlin speaks again. “And of course, I still have this.”

 

And from the small bag he pulls out Ygraine’s sigil. He rubs it gently and hands it to Arthur.

 

“I’ve kept it safe all these years. There’s a small hole on top; I wore it on a chain for awhile, but it broke ages ago. I-”

 

Without warning, Arthur drops the sigil onto the bed and kisses him. Merlin falls into it gratefully, though the way Arthur kisses him is intense; as though he wants to mold them together and make them inseparable.

 

When Arthur pulls away, he’s panting slightly.

 

“I…I’m sorry,” he says nervously.

 

Merlin laughs. “What on _Earth_ are you apologizing for?” he asks incredulously.

 

“It’s just…everything’s so… _different_. Camelot’s gone…Gwen, Leon, Gaius. Everything I knew is just…but then there’s _you_ , and suddenly it’s like nothing’s changed. Everything’s gone, and yet….”

 

“You still have _me_.”

 

Arthur smiles, and it’s so much like the smile Merlin’s captured on paper – the only picture he’s had to remember Arthur by for 2000 years – that Merlin can’t help himself from kissing Arthur again. He still can’t believe that after all this time Arthur’s really back. But beyond that, he can’t believe that Arthur is really _his_.

 

Arthur pulls away with a laugh and trails his hand up Merlin’s arm, then down his chest, resting on Merlin’s stomach.

 

“Well, I guess I don’t need anything else then, do I?”

 

Arthur takes the dragon, photo, and sigil and places them gently on the bedside table. When he turns back around, Merlin smiles at him, grabs his hand, and squeezes it tightly. “ _I_ certainly don't.”

 

Arthur smiles back at him. Then he reaches a hand up to Merlin's face, caressing it gently. Merlin sighs and closes his eyes.

 

This time, when Arthur kisses him, it's different. It's still loving and gentle, but there's a sense of neediness, of urgency, behind it, and Merlin groans softly before taking Arthur's face between both of his hands and kissing him back. The kiss deepens, and when Merlin bites Arthur's lip, Arthur gasps and pulls away from him.

 

“Merlin.” Arthur sees his own desire mirrored in Merlin's blue eyes, and without another word he kisses Merlin again, harder this time.

 

Two thousand years of waiting has taken its toll on Merlin, and it's not long before they're both scrambling to get Arthur out of his armor as quickly as they can. There's a brief moment where Arthur laughs as Merlin fumbles clumsily with the clasp on his hauberk. But then Merlin curses in some language Arthur's never heard, and with a word and a flash of gold the armor comes undone and crashes to the floor.

 

“Sorry,” Merlin whispers sheepishly. But Merlin's use of magic only turns Arthur on even more, and he groans as he kisses Merlin's neck, licks his way down his collarbone, whispering words like “please” and “I want you” and something that sounds suspiciously like “clothes off now” but Merlin's far too engrossed in the fact that Arthur is tearing his shirt over his head to comprehend the words he's saying.

 

Arthur pushes him back onto the bed and kisses his chest, takes one of his nipples between his teeth, and Merlin gasps out Arthur's name as he feels his cock start to harden. Arthur must feel it too, because he gasps and stops touching him, looks at him with eyes so dark with passion that they're almost black.

 

And then they're tearing each others clothes off as fast as they can. Arthur's chain mail hits the floor, followed by his shirt. Arthur pushes Merlin back on the bed again, and they find themselves in a tangle of limbs, Arthur grinding against Merlin frantically.

 

“Arthur...wait.”

 

Arthur doesn't seem to hear him, so Merlin puts his hand against Arthur's chest and pushes him away gently.

 

“Arthur...please.”

 

Arthur pauses and finally looks at him. Arthur pushes himself up until he's sitting on the bed, and Merlin sits up next to him.

 

“I'm sorry. I thought that you were enjoying that,” Arthur says. He sounds so nervous, and a look of hurt crosses his face. Merlin shakes his head and smiles at him, takes his face between his hands, and kisses him tenderly.

 

“I was. Believe me I was,” he says with a small laugh. “But I don't want....” He puts his hands on Arthur's chest, right over his beating heart, and the feeling of Arthur alive under his touch after so many years apart makes him ache. “I _want you_ , Arthur. I want to be with you.”

 

Arthur wants that, too. It's just that-

 

“Merlin...I've never been with another man. I mean, I know how it works, but I....”

 

Merlin grins, and the look sends shivers down Arthur's spine.

 

“Don't worry, Arthur. I'll show you.”

 

Merlin grabs Arthur's hand and pulls him to his feet, and they stand next to the bed and take it slow. Merlin traces his fingers gently along the scars on Arthur's chest. Merlin knows all of them. When he reaches the scar on Arthur's stomach from the wound that killed him, he sits down on the bed in front of him and traces it with his tongue, kissing it gently, almost reverently. Arthur runs his fingers softly through Merlin's hair.

 

When he's done, Merlin undoes Arthur's pants, pulls them slowly down his legs, tracing scars as he goes. They're all scars he's seen before, but he's never been able to touch them, and he does so now, placing a gentle kiss over every one he finds. When he finally stands up, Arthur's cock is fully hard against his stomach, and he's shaking.

 

“My turn,” Arthur says quietly, and Arthur kisses Merlin on the top of his head and works his way down. He kisses a scar on the back of his neck that only Merlin knows is from the Fomorroh that tried to get him to kill Arthur. But unlike Merlin, Arthur doesn't know any of these scars. Whether it's because they're new, or because he never really cared to look, Arthur's not sure. The thought makes him stop for a second, and he stares at the floor.

 

“Arthur?”

 

Arthur looks up at the sound of Merlin's voice.

 

“All this time, Merlin. All these things that I...that I don't know about you. I just feel like...like we missed out on so much.”

 

Merlin stands up and puts his hands on Arthur's hips, pulling him closer, and Arthur finds himself forced to look into Merlin's eyes.

 

“There's so much I want to tell you, Arthur. And I will. I promise. We're together now. We have all the time in the world.”

 

Arthur smiles at the thought. “You know, for once in your life, you might be right about something.”

 

Merlin laughs and smacks him lightly on the ass. Arthur smirks at the gesture, and his gaze travels down Merlin's body.

 

“There's just one problem, Merlin.”

 

“Oh really? And what's that?”

 

“You're still wearing pants.”

 

Merlin grins wickedly.

 

“And just what are you going to do about it, _my lord_?”

 

Arthur growls and pushes Merlin back onto the bed.

 

“This.”

 

And he unceremoniously tears Merlin's pants off.

 

The next few minutes pass in a flurry of moans and bites, kisses and caresses. Hands touch, bodies move together. Merlin extracts himself from Arthur long enough to retrieve a bottle of oil from the drawer next to the bed. He hands it to Arthur and shows him how to slick up his fingers with it. Finally, at a nod of encouragement from Merlin, Arthur pushes a finger inside him tentatively.

 

Merlin cries out loudly, and Arthur's suddenly terrified.

 

“I'm sorry!” Arthur says in panic. “I didn't mean to-”

 

“No. It's all right. Just...just give me a minute.”

 

Arthur stares at Merlin in wonder, watches as the pain slowly eases off his face, and when Merlin opens his eyes and nods, Arthur works him open slowly and gently.

 

Merlin's groans of pain turn to pleasure, and when he tells Arthur to add a second finger, Arthur obliges, watching in fascination as his fingers disappear inside Merlin. He feels his cock get impossibly harder at the sight of it, and when Merlin asks for another, Arthur can barely keep it together.

 

Just when he feels like he can't take it anymore, Merlin nods at him, and Arthur pulls Merlin's knees apart and gently slides into him. He can't control the moan that escapes him at the feel of Merlin wrapped so tightly around the tip of his cock, and he groans as he enters him slowly, being careful not to push too fast. When he's sheathed inside him fully Arthur stops, panting harshly. Then he notices the tears on Merlin's face.

 

“Does it hurt?” Arthur asks with concern, and he reaches down and gently wipes the tears away.

 

Merlin shakes his head. “No. Arthur... _please._ ”

 

And that's all the prompting he needs. Arthur pulls out slowly and pushes back in, dragging Merlin up the bed slightly with the force of this thrust. Merlin moans, and Arthur keeps going. He builds up a steady rhythm, marveling at how good it feels and the look on Merlin's face.

 

“Harder. Please,” Merlin begs, arching his back up in an attempt to take Arthur in deeper.

 

Arthur groans out Merlin's name, and before he even knows what he's doing he wraps his arms around Merlin's lower back and hauls him upright until Merlin's sitting in his lap. The new angle drives Arthur deeper into him, and they both gasp at the sensation. Arthur's balls rest against Merlin's ass, and the tip of his cock brushes against Merlin's prostate. Merlin's quaking around him now, and Arthur pauses, trying to gain control over his emotions and the trembling in his body.

 

Finally, Arthur grabs Merlin's ass, lifts him up gently, and pushes into him, slowly at first and then faster as the feel of Merlin's ass clenched so tightly around his cock becomes too much to bear. Merlin rests his head on Arthur's chest, wraps his arms around Arthur's back and holds on tight, takes some of his weight off of Arthur so he can move easier. Arthur pounds into him harder as his thighs tremble and clench and his body shakes from a mixture of exertion and want, and he knows he's close.

 

“Arthur...I missed you so much,” Merlin whispers brokenly.

 

The words are unexpected, but not unwelcome. Arthur feels tears rise in his eyes.

 

“Merlin,” he moans desperately. “I need...please.”

 

Merlin shudders in Arthur's arms, and Arthur knows he's close, too.

 

“Come with me, Merlin,” Arthur gasps. “Please. You've never denied me before.”

 

Merlin moans out Arthur's name, panting heavily. Then he pulls his head from Arthur's chest and looks into his eyes.

 

“ _Ic lufie_ _þe_.”

 

The words come out without warning, and Merlin's eyes glow gold. Arthur gasps as Merlin's magic flows into him. It starts in the very center of his body and flows outward through his veins. He feels everything at once, and it takes his breath away.

 

In an instant, he sees all that Merlin has done for him. All those times he saved him using magic. All the times he gave him advice, told him what he needed to hear. The times Merlin cried for him. The times he sat at his side, kept watch for him while he slept. How he was there with him all that time in Camelot. How he grew with him, shaped him, made him the king Camelot deserved and the man he wanted to be. Arthur feels how much Merlin cares for him, loves him. He's not sure how long the feeling lasts, but it feels like an instant and yet forever at the same time. He looks at Merlin, whose eyes still glow gold.

 

“I love you, too, Merlin,” he whispers raggedly. He thrusts into him once more, twice more, his body trembling. “Magic and all.”

 

A sob escapes Merlin's throat and he cries out Arthur's name. Arthur reaches a hand down and pulls gently on Merlin's cock as he thrusts up into him hard one more time, and then they're both coming. Merlin throws his head back against the wall as he tenses in Arthur's arms, lost in the powerful sensation of his orgasm flowing through him; lost in the feeling of knowing that his king is finally, _finally_ , with him.

 

Arthur moans as he pulls Merlin closer to him, molding their bodies together as tightly as he can. He can feel Merlin's heart beating wildly against his chest, feels his own beating against Merlin's. He wraps one arm around Merlin's waist and trails the other up Merlin's back, running his fingers through his hair, resting Merlin's forehead against his neck. He grunts out Merlin's name, and he sounds broken and desperate, and they both continue to shudder as they cling to each other and ride out the waves together, Merlin's arms wrapped tightly around Arthur's lower back like he's afraid to let go.

 

When they finally come down, Merlin pulls away slowly and lifts his head from Arthur's shoulder. Merlin feels tears drying on his face, but he's not prepared to look up at Arthur and find him crying silently.

 

“I had no idea, Merlin,” Arthur whispers, voice breaking softly on Merlin's name.

 

Merlin reaches up a hand to Arthur's face and gently wipes away the tears he finds there. Arthur lets out a quiet sob, closing his eyes as another tear falls, hitting Merlin's hand and gliding gently down his fingertips. Arthur lets go of him and grabs Merlin's hand between both of his own, grasping it tightly.

 

“Everything I never knew. Merlin...all these things you did, all these times you were there for me. And I had _no idea_. I called you an idiot, and I embarrassed you-”

 

“It's all right, Arthur.” Merlin reaches up with his free hand and touches Arthur's face again, trying to stop his tears, but Arthur pulls away, shaking his head. Then he has both of Merlin's hands grasped tightly in his own.

 

“ _It's not_. It's not all right, Merlin. I never knew. I mean...I trusted you. I knew you had my back. But I...I never _knew_ , Merlin. Gods, I never really knew and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Merlin.”

 

“Arthur, _it's all right,_ ” Merlin answers firmly. He pulls his hands away and grasps Arthur's face tightly, lifting his head and forcing Arthur to look at him, and Arthur's sobbing quietly now.

 

“I love you so much. I'm sorry it took me so long to see that. We could have had so much time. We could have-”

 

Merlin shuts him up with a kiss. It's fierce and needy and more than a little salty, but eventually Arthur kisses him back.

 

When they finally pull away for air, Merlin wipes the tears off Arthur's face, and he's pleased to find that he's stopped crying.

 

“Arthur...you're here _now_ , and that's all that matters.”

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin always expected that _he'd_ be the one falling apart when he and Arthur finally got together. That two thousand years of waiting would make him a miserable wreck. But in the end, this night becomes all about comforting Arthur. And maybe that's how it should be. After all, Arthur had used his dying breath to comfort Merlin: to assure him that he hadn't failed, to thank him for all that he had done, to help Merlin cope with his passing.

 

So maybe it makes sense that Merlin spends their first night together telling Arthur he has nothing to apologize for. Telling him that everything is going to be okay, assuring him that what happened in the past is over and that they've got all the time in the world ahead of them. That maybe they can start over.

 

Arthur makes love to Merlin two more times that night, and if Merlin loses control of his magic at one point and causes the bed to tremble and lift a foot off the ground, Arthur is polite enough to not rub it in.

 

Well, okay, so he calls Merlin a girl, but then he figures he makes up for it by kissing him until they're both laughing and they can't stop.

 

Eventually, they fall asleep wrapped tightly around each other, Merlin's head resting on Arthur's chest so he can feel his heart beating; so he can know that Arthur is really and truly with him again, alive and whole.

 

Merlin sleeps more peacefully than he's slept in two thousand years.

 

That is, until he wakes up at sunrise and screams as the Earth rips itself apart beneath his feet.

 

_...tbc..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things. First, if you haven’t read any of the Dr Seuss stories I mentioned, DO IT! In fact, read all of Dr Seuss that you can get your hands on. I really feel like Arthur would like the morals that Dr Seuss’ stories try to teach, which is why I picked them for his favorite. As for Merlin’s favorite, AA Milne is chock full of good Merthur quotes. Check out the AA Milne tag on Tumblr. 
> 
> Ic lufie þe: “I love you” in Old English (at least the closest I could get)
> 
> The second item that Merlin shows Arthur, the photo he drew, is something I’ve already written into a short story that takes place in this verse: "Please Tell Them My Name." I’m glad I was able to post that before I put it up in this chapter.
> 
> Finally, Ygraine’s sigil. If you are one of the two people who hasn’t seen the deleted scenes yet, this comes from deleted scenes for 4.02 “The Darkest Hour, Part Two.” You can find a million copies of it on Youtube. WATCH IT. Though it’s a deleted scene, Merthur shippers have fully adopted it as canon.
> 
> I think that’s it. Like I said, this is my first explicit Merthur. I really hope I did all right with it. Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Old Friends, New Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait! Work has been rough on me the past few weeks.

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Three: Old Friends, New Enemies**

 

Arthur wakes to a terrible screaming that makes his blood run cold. He jolts up in a bed that’s shaking, and it only takes him a second to realize that the bloodcurdling noise is coming from Merlin.

 

The look of terror on Merlin’s face, the sound of his screams, the fact that the bed is trembling but the ground isn’t moving, it all tells him that something is terribly, horribly wrong.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur screams, trying to make himself heard over Merlin’s cries. Merlin scoots up the bed and hurls himself against the wall, curling up into a small, trembling ball as he continues to scream. Arthur’s heart rips itself into pieces in his chest.

 

“Merlin, it’s all right. Please.” Arthur has no idea if it’s going to be all right, has no idea what’s even wrong, but he will do anything to stop Merlin’s screams. He untangles himself from the covers and moves up the bed toward him.

 

"Merlin, look at me.” He grabs Merlin’s arm, trying to get him to look up.

 

It turns out to be a big mistake. Merlin just yells louder and puts up a hand, and Arthur feels himself fly off of the bed and crash to the floor. He lands hard on his shoulder, groaning in pain, shocked at the fact that Merlin just flung him across the room.

 

He doesn’t take long to consider it, though. Instead he gets shakily to his feet. Merlin pulls out of his ball and grasps his head. Arthur can see his eyes glowing gold from across the room. Merlin clearly has no control over what is happening, and Arthur feels just as helpless watching.

 

Without warning, Merlin gets off the bed, still holding his head, and when his feet hit the floor he crashes and curls up into a ball against the end table. The bed stops quaking, and instead Arthur can feel a slight trembling in the earth beneath his feet, and now he’s terrified. He can’t help it. He knows this is Merlin, knows Merlin would never hurt him. But his magic is powerful, and it’s like he’s no longer in control of it.

 

But then Merlin whimpers, and Arthur pushes aside his fear without a second thought and walks toward the bed.

 

He approaches slowly, trying not to startle him.

 

“Merlin.”

 

Merlin groans and doesn’t look up. He starts rocking back and forth.

 

“Merlin, it’s all right.” Arthur’s a few feet from him now, and he crouches down next to him slowly.

 

“Merlin, it’s me. Arthur. You’re safe.”

 

The ground stops quaking, but Merlin doesn’t. Arthur reaches both hands out to Merlin gently, but he doesn’t touch him.

 

“Merlin, look at me. Please.”

 

Merlin stops trembling and lets out a sob.

 

“Emrys.”

 

Arthur’s not sure why he says it. He remembers Morgana saying the name before Merlin killed her, and though he’s not entirely sure what it means, it just comes out, and it feels right.

 

In the end, it does the trick. Merlin pulls his arms away from his head and looks up at him. Tears streak his face and his eyes are still gold, and Arthur has to reach him.

 

“You’re safe, Merlin. I’m here.” Slowly, as gently as he can, he puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. Merlin flinches, but he doesn’t pull away or send him flying across the room, and Arthur takes it as a good sign. “Come back to me. Please.”

 

Merlin whimpers quietly, but he looks Arthur in the eyes and nods. His eyes slowly fade from gold to blue, and the trembling in his body begins to slow.

 

“That’s it. You’re okay now.” Arthur rubs Merlin’s shoulders gently, and Merlin gazes down at the floor and starts to take deep breaths. Arthur stays next to him and keeps caressing softly as Merlin slowly calms down.

 

Eventually, the trembling stops and Merlin’s breathing evens out. He looks back up again.

 

“Arthur,” he whispers quietly.

 

Arthur sighs in relief. “Yes, it’s me.”

 

“Thank you.” Merlin reaches up and grabs Arthur’s hands. Arthur grasps Merlin’s hands in return, squeezing them tightly.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

They sit like that in silence for a few minutes, Merlin still shaking slightly. When it seems like Merlin has calmed down enough to talk, Arthur speaks.

 

“Merlin…what happened?”

 

Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t…Arthur, we’re naked. And the floor is cold.”

 

He sounds small, and so (God help him) _adorable,_ that Arthur laughs, and it comes out both nervous and relieved. “C’mon, let’s go back to bed.”

 

Arthur helps Merlin to his feet. The two of them find their pants and put them on before climbing back onto the bed. Merlin sits at the head of the bed and wraps his arms around his knees. Arthur sits next to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. Sighing deeply, Merlin leans into his touch, and when Arthur wraps his other arm around him, Merlin drops his knees away from his chest. They resettle until Merlin is sitting in Arthur’s lap, his back against Arthur’s chest and his hands on Arthur’s arms, holding on tight.

 

Finally, Merlin speaks.

 

“At first I was just dreaming. About that time the unicorn came back to life, do you remember that?"

 

Arthur nods against Merlin's shoulder, but he doesn't say anything, and Merlin continues.

 

"Anyway, one minute I was dreaming, and then the next…it felt like the ground just split open and something…something _terrible_ heaved itself out of the darkest place you could imagine. It came out of the earth, and it was so _powerful_. I felt the ground crumbling around me and it just started pulling at my magic. I felt like it was…using me to try and claw its way to the surface.”

 

“Merlin.”

 

“It tore at me from the inside, and I couldn’t control my magic anymore. It _hurt_. Like nothing ever has. I’ve never lost control like that. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think.”

 

Merlin starts to shake slightly, and Arthur grabs Merlin’s hands between his own and rubs them gently.

 

“I’m sorry I threw you across the room. I didn’t…I couldn’t recognize you. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry, Arthur."

 

“It’s all right, Merlin.”

 

“No, it’s not. I could have _hurt you._ I don’t ever want to hurt you."

 

“Look, I’m okay. See?” Arthur kisses the top of his head, breathes gently into his hair. “I’m fine.”

 

Merlin grows silent, lost in his thoughts. When he speaks again, he whispers so quietly Arthur has to strain to hear him.

 

“There’s something out there, Arthur. It’s powerful. I don’t know what it is; I’ve never felt anything like it. But it…it wants to hurt us. Not just me, but…everyone.”

 

“You can feel all of that?”

 

Merlin nods slowly. “It’s bad, Arthur. It’s…it’s _evil_.”

 

And despite the fact that there’s no breeze blowing through the cottage, Arthur shivers.

 

* * *

 

 

“You really think we’ll find answers in these glass caves?”

 

“Crystal Caves. And yes. Or at least…I hope so.”

 

“Have you been to these caves before?”

 

“Many times. Especially in the last few centuries. I go there when I need…guidance.” Merlin doesn’t expand on what “guidance” means, and Arthur doesn’t push him. “I went there a lot after you…after you died.”

 

Arthur marvels over how, even now that he’s alive again, Merlin still hesitates every time he talks about Arthur being dead.

 

“And then before you died. Before the battle at Camlann. Morgana took away my magic. I had to leave you to get it back. Turns out I couldn’t really lose it anyway.”

 

Arthur stops walking. “So _that’s_ why you couldn’t come with me? You really _did_ need to obtain vital supplies?”

 

Merlin smiles. “Yes. I would never have left you for anything else.”

 

“I knew it,” Arthur says quietly, and a thoughtful look crosses his face. “I mean, I didn’t know _why_ you left, but I always sensed something was…off. Merlin….” He gazes at Merlin, and he looks touched and awed all at the same time. "I always knew you were the bravest of us all. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

 

“It’s all right.” Merlin smiles reassuringly and takes a step closer to Arthur. “I couldn’t blame you for feeling hurt. I just wish I could have told you more. I regretted having to keep secrets from you. I never liked hiding who I really was. I just…I never wanted to make you choose between upholding the law and saving my life.”

 

“You didn’t want to put me in that position.”

 

“Yeah,” Merlin says with a laugh. “You actually remember me saying that?”

 

“Of course I do, Merlin. It was the moment when I realized that you….” Arthur trails off, looks deep into Merlin’s eyes, and blushes slightly before looking away. Merlin finds it incredibly endearing.

 

“That I cared about you?” Merlin supplies helpfully.

 

Arthur takes a minute, like he’s screwing up his courage, then looks back at him.

 

“That you loved me.”

 

Merlin smiles gratefully, then kisses Arthur lightly on the cheek. But then Arthur grabs his face and pulls him in for a real kiss, gasping heavily around his mouth, and Merlin can feel the need behind it.

 

Finally, Arthur pulls away. “I didn’t realize that I loved you back until it was too late.”

 

“It’s all right, Arthur. You told me in the end. It’s what kept me going.” He reaches out, takes Arthur’s hand, and attempts to lead them on.

 

Arthur pulls him back.

 

“Merlin…wait.”

 

Merlin turns back to him questioningly.

 

“That dream I had. When you told me about the hidden path. Was that…was that real?”

 

Merlin turns them until they’re facing each other. “The cave is magic, Arthur. I used the crystals to see Morgana’s plans, and then I used them to find you.”

 

“So it wasn’t a dream?”

 

“No.”

 

Arthur laughs. “I knew it wasn't a dream. It didn’t feel like one. It felt…more real. Deep down inside, I knew it was really you. You were giving me advice just like you always do, and I listened without question. You saved us all that night, Merlin.”

 

Merlin smiles. “Glad I could help,” he says sincerely, vaguely recalling another time he said those words and didn't mean them in the slightest.

 

Arthur pulls him into a sideways hug, and with one arm still draped over his shoulder he lets Merlin lead them on to the caves.

 

* * *

 

 

“We’re here,” Merlin finally announces.

 

Arthur stops and stares.

 

“Just looks like a cave to me. You’re sure you’ll find answers here?”

 

Merlin stops outside the cave, and he’s instantly flooded with memories. Visiting the caves for the first time and seeing into the future even though he didn't want to. Foiling Morgana’s plans by talking to Arthur in his sleep. Wanting to see his father after Arthur’s death, needing his advice. Returning to find help in saving Camelot. Wanting to see Kilgharrah again. Missing Matthew.

 

He’s visited the caves dozens of times over the years, seeking solitude, answers, guidance. He’s received help from the crystals themselves, in the visions they show him, though he’s always been wary of relying on the messages they bring. He’s received help from his father, from a few magical friends he's made through the years, and from Kilgharrah.

 

“I don’t know for sure,” Merlin replies. "But I’ve found answers in the past. Hopefully I can find them again.”

 

Arthur nods. “Do I…can I come in with you?”

 

Merlin’s never brought anyone into the caves, never had a reason to, but deep down he knows the answer to the question anyway.

 

“No. This is something I have to do alone.”

 

“Right. Mysterious sorcery business. Got it.”

 

Merlin laughs. “Exactly.”

 

Arthur smiles at him. “Merlin…I….” He looks at him, hesitates, then reaches out and squeezes his hand gently. “Good luck.”

 

Merlin squeezes back as he nods. When he lets go of Arthur’s hand, he feels the loss immediately. Steeling himself, he walks away from Arthur and enters the cave.

 

* * *

 

 

It turns out, Merlin needn’t have worried. The crystals light his path to the farthest depths of the cave, and there, Merlin finds Kilgharrah waiting for him.

 

It’s not really him, of course. More like a ghost, or an imprint. A manifestation of the magic that flows through Merlin’s veins and courses through the fabric of the world. He’s blue, not gold, and he lies on the ground, head on his front paws.

 

Merlin kicks a stone aside as he enters the chamber, and the Great Dragon stirs.

 

“Young warlock. I am glad to see you.”

 

Merlin laughs. “I’m over 2000, old friend. When will you ever stop calling me ‘young’?”

 

“Merlin, to me you will always be the small, naïve boy who entered my prison all those years ago."

 

“Thanks,” Merlin answers dryly. “I suppose you know why I have come?”

 

“I am here for the same reasons as you. A stirring deep in the Earth has brought me out of slumber. Something I have not felt since before the dawn of man. Something-”

 

“Evil,” Merlin answers without thinking, and he shivers involuntarily at the memory of waking that morning.

 

Kilgharrah nods. “I am here to help you, Merlin. To help everyone.”

 

“What is this…thing? Why is it here? And why now?”

 

“I cannot answer all of your questions, Merlin. Some things cannot be easily explained.”

 

“Two thousand years and you still speak in riddles,” Merlin quips, rolling his eyes. “Just tell me what you can.”

 

“The force that has arisen has no name, for man has never given it one. It is magic, Merlin, but it is _evil_. Think of it as the dark to your light. Every element that makes up this world has a dark side and a light side. It is how everything keeps in balance. Magic is no different. _You_ are the manifestation of all that is good about magic: courage, kindness, faith. You use your magic to heal, to care for others, and to fight for what is right. Evil has always existed in this world, Merlin. You’ve seen it first hand. But this…this is like nothing you’ve ever seen, or ever will.”

 

“I think I need to sit down,” Merlin whispers, but he can’t sit down because his legs have frozen in place. The air in the cave suddenly feels much colder than it did when he first entered.

 

“This creature is a malevolence born from the darkness in the world, made stronger by the growing evil in man’s heart. Many thousands of years ago, before men ruled the world, the dragons saw a great evil rising. They sought to destroy it, and found that it was too powerful. So they banded together and used what magic they could to cast it deep into the Earth. They placed a powerful spell on it, forcing it to slumber. But the dragons knew it could not stay buried forever. Instead it slept and it fed. It fed on greed, jealousy, and dark intentions. It fed on the darkness in man’s heart...and it grew stronger. The past two hundred years have been good to it.”

 

Merlin’s heart beats faster, and he knows without a doubt that everything Kilgharrah has said is true. “The last war. That’s made it powerful enough to break your spell. And now it’s come back to…what does it want?”

 

Merlin asks the question, yet he already knows the answer.

 

“It feeds off of death and destruction, Merlin. It has no agenda. No real purpose but to destroy everything that is good in this world, until there is nothing left but evil. It is darkness personified. It is your destiny, and it is your doom.”

 

Merlin turns away, the weight of what is happening too much for him to bear. He knows without a doubt that this thing is pure evil, and that it seeks to destroy the world. Deep down, Merlin already knew everything that Kilgharrah has told him. He knew it from the second that thing crawled out of the Earth.

 

It hits him like a freight train. Something he should have figured out already; something he has been trying desperately to deny.

 

“Arthur. This is why Arthur’s back. To fight this…this thing. But how can he…how do you fight Evil, Kilgharrah? How can he fight something that doesn’t even have a form? How can he possibly-”

 

“He won’t be fighting it alone, young warlock. Surely you understand that.”

 

He smiles at Merlin knowingly, and Merlin sighs.

 

Of course.

 

“We’ll fight it together. Like we always have.”

 

Kilgharrah nods. “Two sides of the same coin. You need each other, Merlin. The _world_ needs you.”

 

“Of course it does,” Merlin replies bitterly. He turns away, runs his hands through his hair. Then without warning, he picks up a rock and hurls it as hard as he can at the wall and screams. “Four days! Arthur’s only been back for _four days_. We only just….” Merlin blushes at the memory of last night, and while he won’t share intimate details, he realizes there’s no point in beating around the bush. “We’re finally _together_. We were going to…two thousand years! He just got back, Kilgharrah. It’s not…it’s not….”

 

And he can’t get it out, because he knows what Kilgharrah will say. _Life is not meant to be fair._

 

But then the Great Dragon surprises him.

 

“No, Merlin. It is _not_ fair. And I am sorry. I truly am.” Kilgharrah bows his head, and Merlin watches in shock as a single tear falls down the dragon’s face. “I wish it wasn’t so, young warlock. For your sake, and for Arthur’s.”

 

Merlin turns away and puts his hand on his forehead. He chokes down the lump he feels rising in his throat, fights back the tears, breathes deeply.

 

“The world needs you and Arthur once more, now more than ever. But you don’t have to answer. You have a choice, Merlin.”

 

Merlin turns to the dragon sharply, and he realizes his decision was made long before he set foot in the cave. Maybe even before they left the cottage this morning.

 

“No, we don’t.”

 

Kilgharrah smiles smugly, as though he’s known all along what Merlin’s answer would be.

 

“How do we find this thing?” Merlin asks.

 

“That is a question I cannot answer. But I do know someone who can help you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin emerges from the cave after what feels like only half an hour to find that the sun is sinking low in the sky and Arthur is pacing frantically.

 

“Arthur.”

 

Arthur’s head jerks up at the sound of Merlin’s voice.

 

“Thank God. I was worried sick, Merlin. I had no idea if…Merlin…what’s wrong?”

 

He looks at Arthur, and there’s so much concern and love in his eyes that for a split second Merlin considers lying. Telling him that there’s nothing to worry about, that there’s nothing to be done, that someone else will take care of it. But he knows before the thought is even finished that he’ll never do that.

 

“We have another journey ahead of us, Arthur.”

 

_...tbc..._


	5. The Kindness of Strangers

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Four: The Kindness of Strangers**

 

On the way back to the cottage, Merlin tells Arthur what happened in the caves. Starting with the fact that-

 

“You were friends with _the dragon_?”

 

“Yes, Arthur, but that’s not important.”

 

Then he tells him everything that Kilgharrah said about where the creature comes from and what it is.

 

“This… _thing_. Does it have a name?” Arthur inquires thoughtfully.

 

Merlin shakes his head. “No one was around last time to give it one. I guess _we'll_ have to. A creature that's pure evil. I guess...if I was going to call it anything.….” Merlin stops walking and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes glow gold. “ _Malus_.”

 

The word comes out in Merlin’s voice, but the tone is all wrong. Without warning, the ground trembles under their feet. It quakes briefly, but deeply, and Arthur feels it in his bones. He shudders as his blood runs cold and the birds in the trees take off.

 

“Merlin, what on Earth-”

 

“ _It likes it. It likes Its new name.”_

 

The sky grows dark as clouds scurry across it to hide the sun faster than Arthur can believe. The animals of the forest take off in all directions.

 

Merlin’s eyes still glow gold, and though he’s talking in his own voice, Arthur senses that he is not speaking the words of his own free will. He speaks slowly and distantly, like he’s in a trance.

 

“Merlin, what’s happening?” Arthur asks, and he can’t hide the fear in his voice.

 

“ _It likes having a name. It makes It feel powerful.”_

 

Thunder rumbles in the sky, and the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stands up.

 

“Merlin, you’re scaring me. Snap out of it.”

 

Arthur wants to move toward Merlin, but it feels like his feet are glued to the ground.

 

_“It can smell your fear, Arthur Pendragon.”_

 

Rain starts to fall, and Arthur shivers.

 

“Merlin, please,” Arthur begs.

 

_“It’s going to tear the world apart. And there is nothing you can do to stop It.”_

 

Lightning strikes a tree not ten feet from where they stand, and Arthur feels like he can move again.

 

“Merlin, stop it!” He crosses the space between them and puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “Stop it, now!"

 

Perhaps it's the commanding tone that does the trick. Merlin looks at him, unblinking, but then the rain ends, and the thunder stops rumbling. The darkness slips from the sky and the clouds move away and the sun shines once more.

 

Merlin’s eyes return to their normal blue.

 

“Arthur…why are we all wet?”

 

Arthur feels his legs give out from under him, and he hits the ground, dragging Merlin down with him.

 

“Arthur? Arthur, what’s going on?”

 

Arthur’s shaking violently now. He thought he was terrified this morning, but this? This is something entirely worse.

 

“Arthur…tell me what’s wrong,” Merlin says with concern, and he puts his hands on either side of Arthur’s face and forces him to look up.

 

Possessed. There’s no other word for it. Merlin was talking, and it was his voice, but the words weren’t his. This evil _thing_ used Merlin to speak Its words like it was nothing. Like Merlin was Its puppet.

 

He focuses on Merlin’s hands, which are rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders. When he can speak again, his voice shakes.

 

“‘Malus.’ You called It ‘Malus.’ And It liked it.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin explains on the walk back that it didn’t really feel like he was being possessed, which in Arthur’s opinion just makes everything worse, because does Merlin actually _know_ what it’s like to be possessed, and isn’t the first sign of possession that you don’t know it’s happening? Arthur can't even believe they're talking about _possession_ right now.

 

And then Merlin answers that yes, he _has_ been possessed before. And he’s known it. He’s snapped out of it and remembered what happened.

 

“This was nothing like that. It didn’t possess me, Arthur. I promise.”

 

“Fine, It didn’t _possess_ you. But that still doesn’t explain why the ground shook and the sky went dark and lightning struck a tree!”

 

“Arthur....”

 

In the end, Merlin apologizes, as though it’s his fault, and Arthur tells him it’s okay.

 

It’s the first time Arthur’s lied to Merlin since returning four days ago.

 

* * *

 

That night, over a dinner of squirrrel and berries, Merlin explains where they have to go.

 

“Kilgharrah mentioned a seer – a prophetess – that we need to find. She’s the last of her kind. She doesn’t have magic, not the way I do. But she can see the future. And she’ll know how we can communicate with…Malus.”

 

Merlin says the name quickly, and they flinch in unison, prepared for the worst. But the ground stays still, and they both let out a sigh, grateful that they now have a way of referring to the creature that doesn’t put Merlin in a trance or send the forest animals running for the hills.

 

“Where can we find this seer?”

 

“She lives in a small forest community near the lake of Windermere. It should take us about a week to get there. Kilgharrah gave me detailed directions. I should be able to find it.”

 

Arthur sighs. Two thousand years and nothing’s changed: he and Merlin are off on another quest.

 

 “So, we leave in the morning?” he asks.

 

“Arthur….” Merlin trails off, and he sounds so distressed that Arthur frowns. He stands, walks toward Merlin, and puts a hand on his shoulder. Merlin reaches up and places his own hand over Arthur’s gratefully.

 

“You just got back,” Merlin whispers, and Arthur sighs. He moves behind Merlin and grasps his shoulders, messaging them gently. Then he bends down and places a gentle kiss on top of his head.

 

“I know. But do you remember what you told me last night? We have all the time in the world.”

 

“Arthur-”

 

“We’ll fight this evil, Merlin. We’ll fight it _together_ , like we always do. And we’ll win.”

 

Merlin smiles. “That’s my job, you know. Making sappy speeches.”

 

Arthur laughs. “Well, I did learn from the best.”

 

And Merlin laughs, too.

 

After a moment’s silence, Arthur kneels down next to him.

 

“It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”

 

Arthur wants desperately to believe it, but then he’s never really been good at keeping faith; that was always Merlin's job.

 

He kisses Merlin slowly, tenderly, and Merlin leans into it. Eventually, soft caresses give way to needy touches, and Arthur leads them to the bed.

 

That night, he asks Merlin to make love to him, and while it hurts at first, in the end it’s worth it because he feels needed and loved and closer to Merlin than he’s ever felt to anyone.

 

As they lie in bed that night, warm and blissful, Arthur wants to tell Merlin the truth.

 

He wants to tell him that he’s terrified.

 

Malus used Merlin’s magic to claw Its way out of the Earth; used it listen to them and talk to them. Malus used Merlin’s magic for Its own. It found a way to get to Merlin through his magic.

 

Arthur’s not terrified of Malus (though It most certainly _does_ scare him). He’s not terrified by the display of Merlin’s magic (though he shivers at the memory of how powerful it was). He’s not scared that Merlin’s magic might hurt him; he’s not scared for _himself_ at all.

 

What terrifies Arthur more than anything is the thought that he could lose Merlin to his own magic.

 

He’s going to tell him. He has to.

 

“Merlin?”

 

But then Merlin looks at him with those eyes – those bright, trusting, obnoxiously beautiful blue eyes – and damnit he can’t do it, because Merlin _needs him,_ and for the first time in his miserable life Arthur’s going to _be there for him._

 

So when Merlin asks what’s wrong, Arthur tells him to move over a bit because his leg’s falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

They sleep in the next morning. Arthur wakes at dawn, wanting to get an early start. But then Merlin whines and begins to place gentle kisses on his neck, sucking lightly on the spot that he knows will drive Arthur crazy. Arthur moans, then slowly rolls them until he’s hovering over Merlin.

 

“Okay. Maybe just five more minutes.”

 

Three hours later, Merlin and Arthur pack up what little food the have left with the clothes they’ve collected. Merlin explains that, since money is useless now, clothes are a good item to have in a world where people trade with others for what they need. Their extra clothes may buy them vegetables or bread from a farmer in need of a good jacket or a pair of strong shoes. He even suggests they raid the village they slept in on their way to Camelot for more.

 

Merlin digs a small leather cord out of a drawer and ties Ygraine's sigil on to it, then hangs it around his neck. The dragon stays in Camelot as usual and, for the first time in millennia, he leaves the drawing of Arthur behind, too.

 

As he unfolds it and pins it gingerly to the wall over the bed, he explains to Arthur, “I love this old drawing, but it kind of pales in comparison to the real thing.”

 

The comment earns him a smile and a gentle kiss from Arthur.

 

Arthur himself takes the book of Dr Seuss stories. Merlin questions it at first, but Arthur is adamant about it coming with them, so in the end Merlin strengthens the spell that keeps it from getting ruined and lets Arthur pack it in his bag.

 

Lastly, the two of them gather up Arthur’s armor, and Arthur straps Excalibur onto his belt.

 

“There’s just one thing we need to do before we go,” Arthur says quietly.

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, Arthur’s armor and chainmail lie at the base of the tree in the throne room of Camelot. The two of them place the pieces down reverently, arranging them neatly, as though any moment Arthur will need to put them on.

 

“There,” Arthur says, smiling fondly. “Now they’re right where they belong.”

 

“Home,” Merlin finishes for him, and Arthur nods.

 

“Home.”

 

They stand quietly for a moment, gazing at the sight of Arthur’s armor and cloak decorating the great tree. But there’s one piece left.

 

“Arthur…what about the sword?”

 

Arthur glances down at the golden sword he now holds in his hand, not even sure when he took it out of his belt.

 

“Yes. About the sword….”

 

“Yes?” Merlin prompts hesitantly. The tone of Arthur’s voice suggests he wants answers, but that he’s almost too afraid to ask the questions.

 

“Was this sword really stuck in that stone, Merlin?”

 

“Well….”

 

“And you told Morgana that it was forged in a dragon’s breath.”

 

“Well…the thing is….”

 

Merlin hesitates, not sure what to say. But then Arthur turns to him, eyes questioning, and it all comes spilling out.

 

“First of all, the sword’s name is Excalibur.”

 

And then Merlin tells Arthur everything. How Excalibur was meant for Arthur and no one else. How he took the best sword that Gwen’s father had and asked Kilgharah to enchant it. How he had to throw it in the lake to keep it from Uther. How he used it to defeat Morgana's undead army, then placed it in the stone so it would be ready when Arthur needed it. He finishes up with how he threw it in the Lake of Avalon after Arthur's death so that no one else would be able to use it.

 

When he’s done, Arthur looks down at the weapon in his hand and laughs. “I always knew there was something special about this sword. Well, beyond the fact that I had to pull it out of a stone, at any rate.”

 

Merlin smiles. “That sword’s been through a lot, Arthur. It has quite a history.”

 

“Yes, it does. Thanks to you.”

 

Merlin shakes his head. “It’s your sword, Arthur. It always has been. I’ve just…borrowed it a few times.”

 

“Merlin…it’s thanks to you that I even _have_ this sword. It’s thanks to you that I lived long enough to use it; to appreciate it for what it really is. It’s not just my sword, Merlin. In a way…it’s _ours_.”

 

Merlin laughs. “Whatever you say, _sire_ ,” he says jokingly.

 

“I mean it, Merlin," Arthur responds in all seriousness. "This sword is…it’s like a part of us. Your magic, my courage. It’s a _symbol_. It means….” Arthur pauses, at a loss, but then, finally, Merlin thinks he knows what Arthur is getting at.

 

“We fight _together_. We always have, Arthur, even if you didn’t know it-”

 

“And we always will,” Arthur finishes for him.

 

“Exactly.”

 

Arthur smiles fondly at Merlin, then stares back down at the sword.

 

“I think it should stay here,” Arthur says quietly.

 

Merlin nods. “You won’t need it out there, Arthur. It’s a different world from the one you left. I think it…I think it belongs here. In Camelot.”

 

And for once, Arthur agrees with him. He props the sword up against the tree, gazing at the way the afternoon sun glints off the gold lettering.

 

"'Take me up, cast me away,'" Merlin translates for him.

 

Arthur laughs. “I never thought to wonder what those words said. Now it seems…fitting.”

 

Merlin whispers a few words, and the sword, armor, cloak, and even the tree itself glow for an instant. A gentle breeze stirs the cloak as it hangs on a branch, and the golden dragon seems to fly in the wind.

 

“It’ll be safe here, Arthur. All of it.”

 

Arthur nods. He reaches out, touches the hilt of his sword one last time. Then he turns back to Merlin.

 

“Let’s go,” he says quietly, and Merlin follows him from the throne room as they begin their long journey.

 

* * *

 

 

They don’t get far their first day, what with their late start and their detour into the city. They sleep under the stars, cuddled around each other, wrapped up in blankets Merlin took from the cottage.

 

Merlin wakes once in the middle of the night, shivering violently, but Arthur mumbles in his sleep and pulls him closer, and Merlin settles back down, blaming it on the chill in the air.

 

* * *

 

 

The next afternoon, they pass by the village they slept in a few nights ago, and they raid it for as many clothes as they can carry on top of their own packs, carefully choosing the warmest, best made jackets, sweaters, and boots, knowing the weather will only get colder as Autumn really settles in.

 

In one of the houses, Arthur picks up a book. Merlin sees the title, “Le Petit Prince,” as Arthur slides it into his bag. He catches Merlin looking at him.

 

“What?” he asks defensively. “I like the pictures.”

 

Merlin just smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

From the village, Merlin turns them north. They stop for lunch, and seeing as Arthur no longer has Excalibur, Merlin heads into the woods to kill a couple of rabbits while Arthur gathers what food he can find. They eat a rabbit and a handful of nuts between the two of them, saving the other rabbit for later.

 

* * *

 

 

As the sun begins to set, they see their first signs of civilization. They pass by wheat fields, then a small orchard, followed by a decently sized garden.

 

"I've been here before, a long time ago," Merlin says as they approach the outskirts of a large village. "The people here are helpful, but wary. You should let me do the talking."

 

"That's probably our only option, Merlin, considering I won't be able to understand anyone," Arthur says bitterly. "You forget I don't speak the language."

 

Merlin laughs.

 

"Of course." He had fallen into their old language so easily, he'd forgotten that Arthur wouldn't understand Modern English. "But that's an easy fix."

 

He places his hand on Arthur's forehead. Merlin's eyes glow, and Arthur closes his eyes as a strange but warm magic flows through him.

 

"How's that? Can you understand me?"

 

And while Arthur knows that Merlin is speaking a language he shouldn't be able to comprehend, he understands him just fine.

 

"Yes. Yes, I do," Arthur says in awe, and even though the words he speaks feel foreign on his tongue, he says them easily. "Is there anything you _can't do_ , Merlin?"

 

"You mean besides make you less annoying?" Merlin jokes, and Arthur hits him lightly on the arm and calls him an idiot. He fnds that the insult still feels natural even though it rolls off his tongue differently now.

 

Merlin grins. "A whole new language of insults and you call me the same thing you always do."

 

"Old habits," Arthur says with a shrug. "Does this mean I'll be able to read your books on my own?"

 

Merlin nods. "It'll probably feel weird at first, but after awhile the new language will feel as natural as our old one."

 

"Will you read the books to me anyway?" Arthur blurts out, and then he blushes slightly. "I mean, it's just...."

 

"If you want me to, of course I will," Merlin replies with a fond smile that just makes Arthur blush more. "But for now, we should keep moving."

 

* * *

 

 

After almost a week of being with just Merlin, seeing other people throws Arthur off. Usually so good with others, he finds himself oddly shy.

 

Luckily for him, two thousand years of traveling have made Merlin an expert at ingratiating himself with strangers.

 

They enter the village quietly, hands hanging loosely at their sides to show that they are relaxed and unarmed. They walk past rows of small cottages, and the few people outside eye them warily.

 

“Merlin…” Arthur whispers. "Maybe we should just go around.”

 

“It’s all right, Arthur. Trust me.”

 

They keep walking, until Merlin finally stops outside the largest home, situated near the center of the village.

 

As though he’s been waiting for them, a man leaves the cottage and walks toward them. He’s older, middle aged, and he’s smiling, though Arthur can sense the unease behind it.

 

“Welcome, strangers. What brings you to our village?”

 

The man says the words oddly, as though he’s said them many times before; almost as though he’s seeking a specific answer.

 

“In these dark times, we come in friendship," Merlin answers.

 

The man smiles, and this time, it seems genuine.

 

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had people pass through. Even longer since we’ve had any trouble, for which I'm grateful. What can I help you with?”

 

“You may not remember me, but I passed through here long ago. I spoke to a man named Kevin."

 

"Kevin was my brother," the man replies sadly. "He died in winter, five years ago. My name is Martin."

 

"It's good to meet you, Martin. My name is Merlin, and this is my friend Arthur. We wish to trade. It’s been a long time since we’ve had anything other than rabbit and nuts to eat. We were hoping someone could spare some bread, or vegetables.”

 

The man smiles. “I think I may be able to help you." He offers his hand, and Merlin shakes it, smiling gratefully. Martin reaches his hand out to Arthur as well, and Arthur shakes it politely, though he finds that he can’t get his mouth to move.

 

“Welcome, Merlin and Arthur. We are lucky here. We’ve maganged to grow a good crop of wheat and corn, and a good selection of vegetables. Harvest has just started, and we’ve had a good year. What do you have to offer?”

 

Merlin grins. “Do you have a need for clothes?”

 

He opens up one of the bags they collected at the last village, and Martin’s eyes practically light up as he smiles at them.

 

“Merlin, you may just be my new best friend.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thirty minutes later, they leave the village with bags lighter in clothes but heavier with bread, carrots, lettuce, and even a few precious apples. Merlin had to trade three of their jackets and two pairs of boots so Martin’s family could be warm when winter came. But as they sit around their fire that night, eating their second rabbit on top of bread smothered in carrots, lettuce, and apple slices, it’s totally worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

The night is warm and still.

 

Merlin wakes up twice, shivering uncontrollably, before the soothing sound of Arthur's breathing lulls him back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

After a breakfast of leftover dinner, Merlin leads them on.

 

As they walk, he mentions to Arthur how lucky they are.

 

“This portion of the world was mostly uninhabited when the last war started. There was no reason for bombs to drop here. Most of these villages existed even before the war. Some of them have lived this way for centuries, so their villages and farms were already here when the world started to die. They were already used to this life. Without the bombs and the pollution that the major cities experienced, most of these villages were untouched. Things still grow here. There are parts of America and Europe that weren’t so lucky. There are places on Earth where things still don’t grow.”

 

Arthur frowns.

 

“It’s sad to think that the world has changed so much. But seeing villages like Martin’s…well, it makes me…hopeful."

 

And when Merlin smiles, Arthur finds himself smiling, too.

 

* * *

 

 

The clouds grow darker all day, until mid afternoon when the sky opens up. Thunder rumbles in the distance and lightning splits the sky, but it’s far off.

 

Arthur wishes he could say the same for the rain.

 

Five minutes into the storm, the two of them are soaked to the bone. But then Merlin mutters a quick spell and their clothes become dry and stay that way.

 

Arthur laughs. It’s almost like they’re in a bubble. Rain hits the ground all around them, but Merlin and Arthur stay dry as can be.

 

Three hours later, Arthur starts to notice that Merlin is breathing heavily, sweating slightly, and his skin looks pale.

 

“Merlin?” He places a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. The spell stops suddenly at Arthur’s touch, and the rain begins to hit them.

  
”I’m sorry,” Merlin says quietly, and he mutters the spell again. The rain stops hitting them, but their clothes stay wet this time.

 

“Merlin, stop,” Arthur says gently, gripping Merlin’s shoulder tightly. The rain hits them once more as the spell fades. “The magic is wearing you out.”

 

Merlin shivers. “It’s fine, Arthur. Really.”

 

But as they keep walking, he doesn’t try the spell again.

 

* * *

 

That night, they find a second village, even bigger than the first one. The people here are more used to travelers, and the greeting they receive is gracious from the start. Merlin speaks to an elderly man named Victor. He takes a strong liking to Merlin, who he says reminds him so much of the son he and his wife Ella lost to a harsh winter five years ago.

 

After trading some clothes for more vegetables and bread, Victor and Ella invite them into their home.

 

Merlin and Arthur contribute a rabbit they killed earlier that day, and the rabbit goes into a delicious stew that Ella prepares for them. They even manage to pull together a dessert from some leftover berries and apples and a sweet bread that Ella makes using spices from their small garden.

 

They sleep under a roof that night, in a small area (set off by a curtain) that used to belong to the couple’s son. It’s dry and warm and more than Arthur dared to wish for. As they lie curled up together, listening to the rain drum loudly against the roof, Arthur smiles.

 

“What is it?” Merlin questions when he notices the look on his face.

 

“This is nice,” Arthur says sincerely, and Merlin smiles back.

 

“Back before the war, something like this would have been impossible. People rarely left their homes, and they were too afraid to interact with strangers.”

 

Arthur runs a hand lightly through Merlin’s hair. “Perhaps things aren’t so bad after all?”

 

“Maybe,” Merlin says quietly, but Arthur can tell he doesn’t really mean it.

 

“Oh, Merlin.” Arthur puts a hand on Merlin’s chin and lifts his face up. He kisses Merlin tenderly, and Merlin gasps slightly before kissing him back.

 

When Arthur pulls away, Merlin moans softly at the loss, and Arthur laughs and kisses him again.

 

Merlin grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him in closer. He maneuvers his leg over Arthur’s, rubbing against him, and at the feel of Merlin’s cock pressed against him, Arthur groans.

 

And pushes him away.

 

“Merlin…we can’t.”

 

Merlin stares at him hungrily, eyes dark with desire…and something else Arthur can’t quite identify. But the look fades before Arthur can really consider it, and Merlin blushes as he remembers where they are.

 

“Right,” he says with a nervous laugh. He pulls away from Arthur slightly, settling down against the mattress that’s spread on the floor, and Arthur can’t help but laugh at the look of embaressment on his face. Two thousand years, and he’s still Merlin.

 

“I’m glad you haven’t changed _too_ much,” Arthur says sincerely, and he kisses him on the forehead before settling down next to him. “Go to sleep, Merlin.”

 

Five minutes later, Arthur falls asleep with his arms around Merlin.

 

Ten minutes later, the rain begins to slow.

 

Fifteen minutes later, it stops completely.

 

* * *

 

When they wake the next morning, the sky is still dark, but the rain has stopped, and Arthur feels like things may be looking up.

 

Turns out he couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

_…tbc…_

 


	6. The Coming Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this story in almost a year. I don't know what happened, and I can't apologize enough for leaving this story hanging for so long. I'm really sorry.
> 
> The good news is I've started writing again and I'm almost done with it. I've finally gotten my muse back. I can promise that I WILL finish this story. I hope you guys can forgive me for taking so long to update this.

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Five: The Coming Storm**

 

Arthur begins to realize that something’s wrong when Merlin starts shivering. It’s dark out, but it’s still early afternoon, and the breeze is humid and warm. Arthur finds himself taking off his outer jacket, even as Merlin takes an extra sweater out of his bag and puts it on.

 

The shivers subside for about an hour. But then Merlin heads into the woods to find lunch, and when he comes out twenty minutes later dragging three rabbits behind him, he’s shivering again.

 

Arthur starts a fire and begins cooking the rabbits, and Merlin only shivers more.

 

“Come closer to the fire,” Arthur pleads, and Merlin scoots closer.

 

The shivering doesn’t stop.

 

Arthur offers Merlin a bit of rabbit and vegetables, but Merlin shakes his head.

 

“I’m not hungry,” he says quietly.

 

Arthur chews thoughtfully on his food, gazing at Merlin the whole time, and the food settles like a rock in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

As they continue on, the sky grows darker, and Merlin breaks into a sweat.

 

Arthur finds that they have to rest more often. They stop beside a lake, and Arthur fills their water bottles and tries to get Merlin to drink some. But Merlin just shakes his head and turns away.

 

“Merlin, you have to drink.”

 

Merlin doesn’t answer.

 

“Merlin, please,” Arthur finally begs, and Merlin turns to him reluctantly and takes the bottle, drinking a few sips before handing it back to him.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Merlin only gets worse. He grows quiet. He continues to shiver, face pale and sweaty, and when Arthur reaches out a hand to feel his forehead, he’s upset to find that Merlin’s burning with fever.

 

They stop at a few villages they pass along the way, but they're all small and have very little in terms of medicine.

 

One villageman claims to have medicine, but says that they have nothing he'd be willing to trade it for. Arthur's ready to fight him for it, to do whatever is necessary, but Merlin calms him down and urges them forward.

 

Another villagewoman offers to trade them an herbal fever remedy in exchange for their last rabbit. Arthur is skeptical, but desperate, and agrees. He allows himself a glimmer of hope when Merlin's fever eases that night, then feels his heart break as he wakes the next morning as bad off as the day before

 

They travel slower, stopping more often as Merlin doesn’t have the energy to keep moving. He eats and drinks only when Arthur begs him to; when Arthur tells him that he needs to keep up his strength to fight whatever’s wrong with him.

 

* * *

 

It’s their sixth night after leaving Camelot. Arthur lies down behind Merlin, wraps his arms tightly around him, and asks him if he can heal himself with magic. After a few whispered spells, Merlin shakes his head.

 

“I can’t. Arthur…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

 

He sounds so small and scared, and Arthur’s heart aches for him. He pulls Merlin closer as he begins to shake: the use of magic only succeeded in weakening him more.

 

“How much longer, Merlin?”

 

“Two days. Three at the most.”

 

Arthur considers what he has just asked, and for one terrified moment he’s afraid Merlin’s just told him how much longer he thinks he has left.

 

“Three days _until_ _we get to Windermere_ , right?” Arthur checks.

 

Merlin pauses, as though he’s only now considering the implication of what he said. But in the end, he nods in agreement.

 

Arthur sighs in relief. Then he hugs Merlin tightly and presses a kiss into his hair.

 

“It’s going to be all right, Merlin. We’ll be there soon.”

 

* * *

 

Traveling the next day is torture. The sky remains dark, clouds still threatening a storm that has yet to come.

 

Merlin grows listless, forgetful. They stop for breaks more and more often.

 

They don't pass anymore villages, but then Arthur knows they won't be able to help him anyway.

 

When Arthur wakes Merlin from a short nap that afternoon, telling him gently that they need to keep moving, Merlin doesn’t know where they are. It takes him a few minutes to find the right direction again.

 

* * *

 

That night, things only get worse.

 

Merlin begins to toss and turn in his sleep, and Arthur wakes to find the ground shaking beneath them. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and rain finally starts to fall.

 

“Merlin!”

 

Arthur sits up and tries to shake Merlin awake, but he won’t respond. The rain begins to fall harder, and a flash of lightning briefly brightens the sky.

 

“Merlin, wake up! Wake up!”

 

He shakes him harder, desperate now, as the thunder rumbles closer.

 

“MERLIN!”

 

Finally, Merlin bolts upright, and when his eyes open Arthur sees gold, and he feels a jolt pass through him: strong, but not painful.

 

“Arthur?” Merlin looks at him, eyes fading back to blue, and the rain lets up slightly. He’s shaking uncontrollably, and Arthur pulls him close, rubbing his arms firmly, willing him to calm down.

 

“Merlin…what’s going on?” Arthur asks, and he can’t keep his voice from shaking.

 

“I was…I was having a nightmare,” Merlin whispers, shivering harder.

 

“Well, it’s over now. You’re all right. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

 

Merlin nods, and the thunder stops rumbling. As he continues to quake in Arthur’s arms, the rain slows, then eventually stops. The sky remains dark, like it has been for four days, but at least the storm is past.

 

And that’s when Arthur realizes they’re in trouble.

 

It’s just like before, when Malus first spoke through Merlin.

 

“You’re safe,” Arthur repeats, even though he knows it’s a lie.

 

Then Merlin finally stops shaking, and he falls asleep wrapped up in Arthur’s arms.

 

“Please, no,” Arthur whispers, even though he knows it’s no use.

 

It’s Arthur’s worst fear, coming to life.

 

Merlin is losing control of his magic.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Merlin can barely stand, and Arthur hasn’t seen the sun in so long he can barely keep track of what time of day it is. Merlin shivers uncontrollably, no matter how many layers he wears.

 

On their ninth night after leaving Camelot, Merlin collapses against a tree and can’t get up. As rain begins to pour and thunder rumbles off in the distance, Arthur wraps his arms around Merlin from behind and holds on tight. He can feel the heat radiating off of Merlin’s body despite the layers, and the rain, and the fact that he continues to shiver. Arthur holds him until he falls asleep; holds him until Merlin wakes with a scream. Lightning strikes a tree ten feet from where they sit, and Arthur squeezes him tightly, terrified of staying, yet just as terrified of letting go.

 

“Arthur…I….” Merlin hasn’t spoken in almost two days – has done nothing but nod, or shake his head, or moan – and his voice sounds tired and broken and Arthur can’t stand it. He wishes there was something he could do to help him, but he just doesn’t know what. If Merlin can’t heal himself with his magic, then what can Arthur possibly do for him?

 

“I’ve got you,” Arthur says reassuringly, and Merlin shudders in his grasp, moaning.

 

“Arthur…I’m…I’m not going to make it.”

 

Arthur’s heart falls into his stomach.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Merlin. You’re going to get there just fine.” He puts as much force into the words as he can, as if by simply saying them he can make them true.

 

“I’m not…Arthur…you need to leave me. I can’t…I can’t control it. My magic, it…please, Arthur. You need to go.”

 

Arthur chokes down a sob that escapes his throat without permission, and he shakes his head.

 

“No, Merlin. No. It’s going to be okay. Go back to sleep. We’re almost there.”

 

He kisses the top of Merlin’s head, and Merlin sighs. And then, miraculously, Merlin’s shivers start to abate. He’s still shaking, but not nearly as badly as he was before. Curious, Arthur puts his hand on Merlin’s chest, pulls him as close as he can, and kisses him on the cheek. Merlin sighs again as he leans into it, and Arthur feels some of the heat leave Merlin’s face. The thunder rumbles less frequently and the rain begins to calm. Arthur can’t believe it, and he leans down and kisses the side of Merlin’s mouth. Merlin leans into the kiss, moving their lips together as he kisses him back. When he pulls away, Merlin falls limp in his arms and his breathing evens out as the rain stops and he finally falls asleep.

 

Arthur laughs, and it comes out almost hysterical. He rests his head on top of Merlin’s, and that’s when he realizes how tired he is. He hugs Merlin gratefully as sleep overtakes him.

 

* * *

 

When Arthur wakes the next morning, the sun is out. Gray clouds are scattered across the sky, but the sun is bright, trying its best to dispel the gloom.

 

Arthur smiles for the first time in days.

 

“Merlin. Merlin, wake up. The sun is shining.” Arthur shakes him gently, and Merlin shifts slowly. When he opens his eyes, Arthur sees a clarity in them he hasn’t seen in a long time.

 

“So it is,” Merlin sighs.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur gets Merlin to eat a bit of food and drink some water, and as Merlin eats, Arthur begins to put the pieces together.

 

Somehow, he had helped Merlin heal last night. Touching him, kissing him… _somehow_ , Merlin had taken strength from him. It explained why Arthur had felt so tired after Merlin fell asleep: Merlin had used Arthur to heal himself.

 

What if he _could_ help Merlin? What if he could get Merlin to use his strength to heal himself? Just enough to get them to the seer’s village?

 

“Merlin?”

 

Merlin looks up from the apple he’s eating.

 

And then he realizes that Merlin would never agree to that. Merlin would never hurt him to save himself, no matter how much Arthur begged.

 

“Nevermind.”

 

Merlin seems better now, anyway, and Arthur thinks that maybe they’ll be lucky.

 

* * *

 

But by mid-afternoon, what little strength Merlin gained from Arthur is gone. The dark clouds envelop the sky as the inevitable storm rolls in. As the rain starts to fall again, Merlin collapses.

 

Arthur bends down, lifts him into a sitting position. He offers him water, but Merlin shakes his head and whimpers. Arthur rips the top off a bottle of water and holds it to Merlin’s lips.

 

“Please,” Arthur begs, and Merlin opens his mouth enough that Arthur tips the bottle back and pours it slowly down his throat. Merlin takes a few gulps before turning his head away.

 

The all too familiar thunder rumbles closer.

 

“C’mon, Merlin. We need to go.” He puts his hands under Merlin’s arms and heaves him to his feet. Merlin stands for a second before his legs crumble beneath him.

 

“Dammit,” Arthur curses. He bends down next to Merlin. “Which direction, Merlin? Are we almost there?”

 

Merlin looks up at him, but his eyes won’t focus.

 

“Look at me. Merlin, look at me.” He grabs Merlin’s face between his hands, and he feels a gentle pull in his body. He gasps as he feels his own energy flow up from his chest, through his arms and into Merlin’s body. When Merlin finally blinks and says his name, Arthur forces himself to let go.

 

“The river,” Merlin whispers, so quiet Arthur can barely hear him over the thunder, and he points to their right. “Follow the river. Upstream. It’s not…far. Soon. Arthur-”

 

“Perfect,” Arthur gasps, forcing back the wave of nausea that overtook him when he pulled away from Merlin. “Let’s go.”

 

And he kneels in front of Merlin and puts his arms behind his back. Merlin understands, and he wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck, his legs around Arthur’s hips, and Arthur grabs onto Merlin’s legs and stands.

 

He carries Merlin on his back and follows the river.

 

* * *

 

Three hours later, Merlin begins to convulse, and Arthur can’t hold him anymore. His legs give out from under him and they collapse to the ground. Rain pours from the sky, the wind howls, and Arthur starts to panic as Merlin thrashes against him.

 

“Merlin!”

 

Arthur kneels over him, grabs his shoulders, but he can barely hold onto him.

 

“Merlin, please,” Arthur begs, and he manages to get one hand on Merlin’s shoulder and the other on his face. He strokes his cheek gently, and Merlin stops flailing enough for Arthur to kiss him. It’s a fierce, desperate kiss, and Arthur sighs in relief when Merlin stops thrashing and lets himself kiss Arthur back.

 

“That’s it. That’s it, Merlin,” Arthur gasps as he pulls away for air. “I’m going to help you.” He kisses Merlin again, and Merlin kisses him back desperately. Arthur feels the gentle pull again, and when his knees give out, Merlin reaches out an arm to catch him, then pulls away with a cry.

 

“No! Arthur, I can’t do this.”

 

There’s panic in Merlin’s eyes now, fear about what he’s done, about what he _can_ do, but Arthur doesn’t care.

 

“It’s all right, Merlin. Let me help you.” He reaches his other hand up and cradles Merlin’s face, but Merlin grabs his arms and wrenches them away with a scream.

 

“No! I’m not going to hurt you, Arthur. I won’t do it.”

 

“Merlin…please,” Arthur begs, and he feels tears fall down his cheeks to mingle with the rain.

 

“Arthur, no!” Merlin insists with a shake of his head. But he’s still too weak, and Arthur wrenches his hands from Merlin’s grasp, grabs his face, and kisses him again. Merlin struggles, and Arthur feels terrible, but he has to do something, he can’t let Merlin die.

 

And then Merlin can’t help himself, and he kisses Arthur back hungrily. Arthur feels his energy drain slowly from his body, and he won’t pull away, couldn’t even if he wanted to. Merlin bites his lip and Arthur groans. Merlin jerks himself away at the sound. But Merlin doesn’t let go of him, and Arthur can tell it’s taking every ounce of Merlin’s will to stay away from him; can tell by the way Merlin’s clawing at him, trying to pull him closer even as he pushes him away.

 

“Don’t do this. Arthur. Please.”

 

Arthur pants heavily as the world spins. The storm rages around them still, Arthur knows it, but he has eyes for only one thing.

 

He gathers up what energy he has left and shakes his head.

 

“I’m sorry, Merlin. I can’t lose you.”

 

And then he’s kissing him again, and Merlin doesn’t even try to stop him this time. Arthur feels the energy drain out of him faster as Merlin gets greedy.

 

Arthur gasps as he starts to fall to the ground, but then Merlin catches him.

 

“Arthur?”

 

Arthur looks at him, and somehow he knows what he has to do. He grabs Merlin’s wrist, lifts up his own shirt, and places Merlin’s hand over his heart.

 

“No, Arthur. I can’t.”

 

Arthur presses Merlin’s hand closer to him.

 

“It’s okay, Merlin. It’s going to be okay.”

 

Merlin shakes his head, tears pouring down his face.

 

“Do it, Merlin. For me. Please.”

 

And that’s all it takes. Merlin’s eyes glow gold, the thunder rumbles harder, the lightning strikes closer. Arthur feels his energy pour into Merlin, and he smiles gratefully.

 

Arthur’s hand falls away from Merlin’s, and he feels himself fall forward. As his vision blacks out, he knows Merlin grabs his shoulders, but he can’t really feel it. In the back of his mind, he hears Merlin scream.

 

_“Arthur! Oh god, what have I done? I’m so sorry, Arthur! I’m sorry! Please.”_

 

And then the darkness takes him.

 

_…tbc…_

 


	7. Apologies

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Six: Apologies**

_“Arthur! Oh god, what have I done? I’m so sorry, Arthur! I’m sorry! Please.”_

 

_“Arthur, you’re going to be all right. You_ have to _.”_

 

_“Arthur, I’m begging you. Please. Don’t leave me here alone again.”_

 

_“Arthur…I love you.”_

_“Arthur…Arthur….”_

Arthur comes to slowly, Merlin’s voice echoing in his head. He opens his eyes and finds himself in a good sized hut, bright sunlight pouring in through the windows to illuminate his surroundings. Dozens of mats cover the floor, but as he sits up slowly and looks around he finds he’s the only one in the room. He rubs at his stiff neck, wondering where he is and how he got here.

 

The last thing he remembers is being in that field with Merlin, forcing Merlin to use his strength to heal himself. He remembers collapsing in Merlin’s arms, remembers Merlin begging for forgiveness. Then everything goes dark.

 

As he glances around the room, he unearths vague memories of Merlin’s voice: the words he heard before he woke up. Merlin telling him that he is going to be all right, _begging_ him to be all right…telling him he loves him. He recalls the words as though he heard them in a dream, or perhaps in his sleep. When he feels his stomach growl he wonders just how long he’s been out; probably for days considering how tired he feels.

 

Yet though his muscles ache and he’s thirsty and starving, he feels good; nothing a good walk and a decent meal won’t cure.

 

Arthur pushes himself slowly to his feet, testing his strength, and he finds that he can stand, but shakily. He eases his way toward the door and steps outside.

 

After a week of dark, stormy skies, and countless days of being asleep, the bright sunlight hitting his eyes is painful, and he pauses, shielding them from the glare. Eventually, his eyes adjust enough that he can look around.

 

He finds himself in a village, much like the other ones they’ve passed on their journey. The cottage he leaves is set apart from the rest, bigger than most of them, and situated near the banks of a river. He hears the laughter of children far off in the distance, and he hasn’t heard the sound in so long that it actually brings tears to his eyes.

 

But then he finds Merlin, curled up alone on a boulder staring out across the water, and it’s like there’s nothing else in the world.

 

Arthur walks closer to him, but Merlin’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice Arthur until he’s right behind him.

 

“Have you ever seen such a lazy excuse for a servant?” Arthur jokes, and Merlin jumps off the rock so fast it makes Arthur’s head spin.

 

“Arthur! You’re okay!”

 

“Of course I’m okay,” Arthur says with a smile, and the look of joy and relief on Merlin’s face warms his heart. More than anything, it’s the fact that Merlin is _alive_ , walking and breathing and healthy and _alive._ The sun is shining and Merlin is all right and nothing else matters right now but this.

 

“Arthur, I thought that you…oh, God, I’m so glad you’re all right,” Merlin says quietly, the last two words coming out more as a whimper. He throws himself at Arthur, wraps his arms around him tightly, and Arthur smiles into Merlin’s hair as he hugs him back. Merlin kisses Arthur’s shoulder, nuzzles his face into his neck as he breathes in the smell of Arthur, alive and well.

 

“It’s all right, Merlin. I’m fine. It’s going to be okay.”

 

Merlin just pulls him closer, and Arthur lets him. They hold each other until Merlin’s calm enough to pull away, and when he finally does, he doesn’t let go.

 

“You must have so many questions,” Merlin says with a small laugh, and Arthur nods his head in agreement. He has so many questions he doesn’t know where to start. Eventually, he asks the question that’s been weighing on his mind for nearly a week.

 

“Merlin, I don’t understand what happened. How did you get sick? And how did I heal you?”

 

Merlin shakes his head. “I don’t know for sure, Arthur. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it while you were….” Merlin has to take a deep breath before he can continue. “While you were healing. When Malus first clawed his way out of the earth, it felt like he was…latching onto me. Like he was using my magic to help himself. Then later you said that he used me speak to you.”

 

Arthur shudders at the memory. How could he forget?  


Merlin continues. “I can’t know for sure, but it felt like that brief contact with Malus’ magic caused a reaction in my own magic. Like it made me…sick.”

 

“Magic sickness?” Arthur asks with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know that was possible, Merlin.”

 

Merlin nods. “It’s just like what would happen if you got sick. Only instead of my body being sick, it was my magic. My magic turned against me; it took what strength it could from me in order to heal itself from the taint Malus left behind.”

 

Arthur nods. “It left you weak and feverish. But then you lost control of it.”

 

“Yes. My magic took on a life of its own to protect itself. I was too weak to fight it. It…took me over. Which is why, when you tried to help me….”

 

“You couldn’t stop yourself,” Arthur suggests firmly. He wants Merlin to know that this wasn’t his fault; that he had no control over what he did to him.

 

Merlin shakes his head. “Don’t make excuses for me, Arthur. It doesn’t matter if I meant to do it or not. I _hurt you_.”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur reaches out and puts his hands on either side of Merlin’s face, uses his fingers to gently brush away the tears he finds there. “You didn’t have any control over what happened. If what you say about your magic is true, and from what I felt…your magic latched onto me to _protect you_. It took my strength to heal itself. It wasn’t your fault, Merlin. If anything…I forced you to let me help you.”

 

Merlin pulls Arthur’s hands away from his face and takes the smallest of steps backward.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I knew what was happening, Merlin. I knew you were using me to heal yourself. And _I let you_. I told you to. You knew what I was doing, and you told me to stop, but I wouldn’t let you. You even begged me. But I…I couldn’t let you stop. I couldn’t lose you, Merlin. I had to do whatever it took to help you.”

 

“You….” Merlin looks dumbstruck. Then he scoffs, shaking his head and turning away. Arthur doesn’t say anything, waiting to see how Merlin will react.

 

When Merlin finally turns around, Arthur can see that he’s shaking slightly.

 

“You almost…you almost let me kill you. You almost _died_ , Arthur. And I thought I lost you. Again.”

 

“I’m afraid you won’t get rid of me _that_ easily, Merlin,” Arthur jokes, trying to lighten the mood, because he can tell that Merlin’s only getting more frustrated.

 

It’s the wrong thing to say.

 

Merlin takes a step toward him, a mixture of anger and grief in his eyes. "This isn’t _funny_ , Arthur. You nearly _died_. _Again_. You _would_ have died, if I hadn’t….If I hadn’t stopped when I did…you’d be dead right now. You shouldn’t have done it, Arthur. You shouldn’t have-”

 

And now it’s Arthur turn to be angry. “What would you have had me do, Merlin? Let you die? I’m not going to apologize for saving your life. I knew what I was doing, and I regret nothing. I’m fine. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

 

“ _You_ matter,” Merlin insists quietly, taking another step closer and placing his hand gently over Arthur’s heart, and Arthur flinches at the touch. Merlin pulls away, upset. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t control myself. I tried to stop, but-”

 

“It’s all right,” Arthur insists. He hadn’t pulled away because the touch unnerved him, but because it hurt. Carefully, he lifts up his shirt, and while Merlin gasps Arthur can only stare. There, over his heart, lies an imprint of Merlin’s hand. It’s red and shiny, like a burn that’s slowly healing.

 

“Damnit. Arthur, I’m-”

 

“Merlin, if you say you’re sorry one more time, I swear….” He trails off, knowing it’s an empty threat, but he doesn’t want to hear Merlin’s apologies anymore.

 

“Arthur, I can fix it,” Merlin says eagerly. “Just let me-”

 

Arthur puts his hand up. “Don’t. It’s all right.”

 

“Arthur-”

 

Arthur lets his shirt fall, puts his hands on Merlin’s shoulders, and shuts Merlin up with a kiss. He kisses him fierce and long, and when he finally pulls away they both gasp for air.

 

“I told you…I didn’t want to lose you, Merlin….I’d already lost you once before.”

 

“You prat,” Merlin replies with a watery smile. “I’m pretty sure _you’re_ the one who left _me_.”

 

Arthur shakes his head. “No, Merlin. We lost _each other_ that day.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I’m talking about what I never told you before I died. How it was my death that gave me the courage to tell you how I really felt. How much I loved you.”

 

“Arthur….” Merlin puts his hand on Arthur’s chest, over the spot where he knows the imprint of his hand lies burned into Arthur’s flesh. He pushes at him slightly. “Please, you don’t have to-”

 

“No, Merlin, I do. Listen to me.”

 

Merlin pauses and looks up into Arthur’s eyes, and the passion he finds there takes his breath away, and he finds that he can’t speak, so he nods instead.

 

“You kept me going in the end. You kept me going longer than I ever could have gone on my own. You kept me alive, Merlin. You kept me fighting…just like you always have. I fought _for you_ , to stay with you. You wouldn’t give up on me, and I wanted to return the favor. You _needed me_ , Merlin, and I’m sorry I had to leave you. I never wanted to. Even then…and especially now.”

 

“Arthur….” Even as he shakes his head, Merlin looks touched at his words, and it makes Arthur smile.

 

“Let’s sit down,” Arthur suggests, and Merlin does as he asks, sitting down next to him on the boulder.

 

“Do you know when I finally realized how you felt about me?”

 

Merlin just shakes his head, looking at him closely.

 

“It was when you said you didn’t want to put me in a bad position. When you admitted that you never told me about your magic not because you were afraid for yourself, but because you didn’t want to force me into making a difficult decision. That’s when I knew that you loved me.”

 

Merlin smiles up at him, _finally_ , and Arthur’s so pleased he puts out his arm, and Merlin settles into it, leaning his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“I was…surprised, but pleasantly so. I spent the next two days just…letting everything in. Thinking about everything that had happened to me – thinking about _you_ – in ways I never had before. That night at the campfire…when I said that I didn’t want you to change…I didn’t know it yet, but I think I was falling in love with you, too.”

 

Merlin puts a gentle hand on Arthur’s knee, and the touch warms Arthur’s heart. He feels tears start to rise in his eyes, but they don’t fall.

 

“When I was…when I fell in that field…when I asked you to hold me…I knew then that I loved you. I wanted you to know how I felt. That I knew all you had done for me: that you helped me build a kingdom I could never have built on my own. That I was grateful. But I didn’t tell you how I felt because I wanted you to move on. I just…I just didn’t want you to miss me.”

 

“Arthur….” Merlin lifts his head from Arthur’s shoulder and looks deep into his eyes. “That’s stupid.”

 

Merlin doesn’t sound upset, or mad. It’s just an emphatic statement of fact, and Arthur can’t help himself: he laughs. He hasn’t laughed since before Merlin got sick.

 

“Yes, Merlin. I should have told you how I felt when I was dying in your arms, and I’m sorry. As soon as I reached Avalon, I realized just how foolish it was. And then I was told I’d be coming back, and I wanted more than anything to see you just once more; to tell you everything I felt in the end. I’m grateful you blew that horn, Merlin. It gave me a chance to tell you how I felt. To make sure that you didn’t spend all that time alone. I could never forgive myself knowing you lived two thousand years alone, waiting for me.”

 

“I never found another like you, Arthur,” Merlin says shakily, gasping around the tears in his throat.

 

“I never expected you to. But at least you weren’t _alone_. That’s all that matters to me.”

 

“I don’t regret what I did, Merlin. I can’t lose you. Not when we’ve just found each other. Please tell me you understand.”

 

Merlin turns Arthur toward him and rests his forehead on Arthur’s chest, sighing deeply, breathing in the smell of Arthur, feeling his heart beat against cheek. He allows himself a moment to accept that everything is okay. Arthur is here, and whole. They both are. He understands why Arthur did it, of course he does. He did it for the same reason that Merlin begged him not to. As Arthur wraps his arms around Merlin, pulling him closer, Merlin smiles and whispers into his chest, “I do.”

 

He feels Arthur smile against the top of his head, and Merlin lets himself be held.

 

Finally, he pulls away.

 

“I know why you did it, Arthur. And I…I am grateful. Only….”

 

“Don’t ever do it again?” Arthur suggests, and Merlin can’t help but laugh.

 

“Exactly.”

 

Arthur smiles. “We’re going to be all right, Merlin. You’ll see.”

 

And this time, Arthur feels like maybe, just maybe, it could be true.

 

Eventually, Merlin pulls away from Arthur. “So, I’ll bet you’re curious about where we are.”

 

Arthur looks around, suddenly remembering. “Yes, now that you mention it, I had been wondering.”

 

“We made it, Arthur. To Windermere.”

 

Arthur glances around, and his gaze falls on the river. “The seer’s village. But how did we get here?”

 

“You’ll have _me_ to thank for that,” says a female voice Arthur’s never heard before, and he turns around to find a young girl, maybe nineteen or twenty, with dark brown hair and eyes so deep they can only be described as purple. “Welcome to my village, Arthur Pendragon. I’ve been expecting you.”

 

* * *

 

They settle down at the river’s edge, and the girl with the violet eyes tells them her story.

 

_My name is Sybil. When I was born in the village twenty years ago, my parents named me Britney. I haven’t gone by that name in a long time._

_Winters are hard here. About 15 years ago, a particularly harsh one brought a bad strain of influenza. Many people in the village died, including my father. I was very young, three, maybe four years old. I don’t recall anything about him. As far as I can remember it’s always been my mother and I: two women against the world. My mother raised me to be self reliant. She gave birth to me late in her life, and she was always afraid she might die and I wouldn’t be ready to face the world on my own._

_I never had much of a childhood. My mother was the village doctor. “Healer” might be a more appropriate term. She taught me everything she knew. We’ve never had much in the way of modern medicine and vaccines. But our village has been here a long time, and my mother came from a long line of healers. They studied Eastern medicine, focused more on herbs and roots, natural remedies. We’ve always been ill equipped for the stronger diseases, but my mother was very good, and she taught me everything I know. I was assisting her with patients at six; with childbirth by nine. She was well respected, and well loved by everyone._

_Five years ago, we had another bad winter, and the same strain of influenza hit us hard. My mother and I did our best, but she was old, and dealing with all the sick…it was inevitable. I lost my mother to the same disease as my father._

_I was orphaned at the age of 14. But I knew how to take care of myself, and the village helped me with what they could in exchange for my healing services. I was never as well loved as my mother. She just had this way with people, you know? I was always a quiet child, moody, much more like my father. But they needed me, and I did my best for them._

_Three months after my mother died, I started to have visions. Small things at first. What time it would rain the next day. The fact that rabbits were getting at the garden, which was why we were losing so much of our crop. They were just feelings at first. Strong feelings I would have throughout the day about one thing or another. I could never explain how I knew any of it, but I eventually learned that I could trust these feelings._

_Then I started having dreams. I’d see who was going to get sick next, what they were going to get sick from. I dreamt of a mild case of stomach flu one night, and the next day half the village was throwing up from tainted meat they’d eaten the night before._

_The dreams were helpful at first. I could stock up on medicines I needed ahead of time, know when I would need to ask one of the older women to help with childbirths, things like that._

_But then one night I dreamt about things happening in another village. People arguing, fighting…killing each other. I didn’t know any of these people, but the dream was so horrible…so real. I woke up shaking, covered in sweat, and I knew that what I had seen was real…and there was nothing I could do about it. I went about my day as normal, tried to forget about it. But then the next night I had another dream. An earthquake…a whole village swallowed by the earth._

_I stopped sleeping. I was terrified of those dreams. I hated watching terrible things happen, knowing there was nothing I could do to help all those people. My healing got sloppy. The villagers saw that I was struggling. I started training Margaret, one of the older women in our village, and she started taking over most of my responsibilities._

_The village talked about me. How I had lost my touch. How I couldn’t get over the loss of my mother. How I screamed in my sleep. I went without sleeping for so long I lost track of the days._

_And then one day I had a vision while I was awake. One minute I was walking next to the river, and the next I was on my knees, watching a mother and her daughter die in agony. When I came around, half the village was watching me. Margaret says I was screaming and crying, begging for the vision to stop. She gave me a sleeping draught, and I had the first dreamless sleep I’d had in months._

_But when I woke up, everything had changed. I could see it in the eyes of the villagers, the way they looked at me…like I was crazy. No one trusted me anymore. Parents stopped bringing me their sick children. Pregnant mothers turned to Margaret for advice. Margaret made sure I still got my share of the food, but I could tell that many of the villagers didn’t think I should have it. They talked about me when they thought I couldn’t hear them, but my visions showed me what they really thought. I had failed them. I was weak. I was nothing like my mother._

_Three weeks later, I had my most vivid dream yet. I saw one of the young boys wandering away from the village, and watched him die at the hands of a monstrous bear. I woke up screaming. I grabbed my shotgun without thinking and ran for the woods. Some of the villagers heard me and followed. I found the boy just as the bear was poised to strike, and I killed it just in time._

_The villagers were stunned…but grateful. Maybe it was because I was finally able to do something with my visions. Maybe it was because I could finally accept them. Whatever the reason, my dreams became less intense, my visions more bearable. The villagers began to trust me, and I started healing again._

_Years later, they still compare me to my mother. Except now they tell me I’m clearly her daughter. They apologize for doubting me. I use my dreams and visions to help my village. Some of the village women started calling me Sybil, after the great prophetess, and the name stuck. I left my old name behind me. Britney was a naïve little girl; a girl who no longer exists._

_Three weeks ago, I began to have dreams about you, Merlin. A week later, I began to dream about Arthur. I saw visions of your days in Camelot, of all the good you did for Albion. I saw all the good you’ve done in the years since, Merlin. I began to feel as if I knew you both personally. Somehow I knew it was only a matter of time before I finally met you, and I ached for the day to come._

_I watched Arthur come back to life. Watched you visit Camelot. And then that…that_ thing _crawled Its way out of the Earth. I knew then…I knew that you two were the world’s hope. That you would find your way to me. That I was meant to help you. Two nights ago I saw Arthur collapse in Merlin’s arms. I put Margaret in charge and left right away. I followed the growing storm and found you the way I’d seen you in my vision. I told Merlin who I was. I promised him that I would save you, Arthur. Merlin carried you himself, and I led you here. It was a combination of Merlin’s magic and my mother’s medicine that saved you._

_I believe that there’s a reason I’ve been given these visions. Not just to help my village, but to help you both. To help you save the world. Rest for awhile. Tonight I will tell you what I know about Malus._

 

* * *

 

Merlin tells Arthur he should return to the cottage and sleep more. But Arthur insists that he’s fine. He’s been asleep for days, after all. He wants to see more of the village.

 

So Merlin and Arthur spend the day exploring Sybil’s home. Arthur stretches his feet as they walk, noting that while he feels stiff, he feels better than he’s felt since he got back. He wonders briefly if Merlin didn’t use his magic to pour his own energy back into Arthur. But the idea makes him uncomfortable, and so he doesn’t bring it up.

 

They walk past the center of the village, ignoring the looks they get from the villagers. Everyone seems to want to stare, but as soon as Arthur or Merlin makes eye contact, the villagers look away quickly. Apparently no one wants to talk.

 

The village lies nestled in the curve of the river. Sybil’s cottage lies to the north of the village proper, next to the “sick cottage” Arthur woke up in. Nearby stand a group of storage sheds where food, fresh water, and other necessities are housed. To the north lies the forest where the men hunt for what food they can find. Along the western edge and much of the southern lie the fields. To the east lies the river, along with a good sized orchard and garden. Everything lies close enough to the river that a simple yet effective irrigation system has been set up. The village itself lies on a bit of a hill, and even during the wet months it never floods.

 

Arthur and Merlin walk down past the fields where people labor under the hot sun. The fields stretch along the western border from the woods down to the river’s edge. At the river, they turn to the east, walking past an impressive looking orchard. They follow the river’s edge, turn north, and find a series of gardens.

 

As they walk, Arthur notices that everyone has a job to do. The older children work the fields with their parents, while some of the younger ones work in the gardens, though they seem to make more of a mess of themselves in the mud and dirt than to be of much help.

 

Above the gardens, Merlin and Arthur find what appears to be a makeshift daycare. Older villagers – those too old to work the fields – and a few of the older children watch after the littlest ones. The sun is beginning to set behind the fields to the west, and the children swim and play in the river. Merlin and Arthur find a quiet rock at the water’s edge and sit down to watch the sun set.

 

People begin to finish up their work in the gardens nearby. Villagers come in from the fields and pick up their children, many of whom ask for five more minutes and run back into the water squealing.

 

Arthur laughs as one particularly feisty little redhead runs away from the boy who must be her older brother, forcing him to chase her to the riverbank. She taunts him from the water, telling him that he’ll never come in to get her. Then he surprises her by flinging himself into the river, clothes and all, and when he catches her he dunks her under, causing her to giggle.

 

Arthur smiles. He turns to Merlin and finds a similar smile on his face. Yet Arthur also notices a strange, faraway look in his eyes.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur questions.

 

“Hmm?” Merlin turns to him, but his thoughts are clearly somewhere else.

 

Arthur laughs. “What are you thinking about?”

 

Merlin shakes his head, as though he’s just realized he drifted off. “It’s nothing.”

 

“ _Mer_ lin.” The way he says it is so familiar that Merlin can’t help but laugh. “You’re a terrible liar, Merlin. It’s a wonder you were able to keep your magic a secret for so long.”

 

Merlin smirks in response. “Well, it’s not _my_ fault you’re such a cabbagehead.”

 

Arthur scoffs. “Is that any way to talk to your king?” he asks in mock indignation, swatting him playfully on the back of the head.

 

Merlin laughs and bats his hand away. “I’m sorry. It’s not my fault you’re such a cabbagehead, _my lord_.”

 

“That’s better!” Arthur replies with a grin.

 

Merlin drifts off into his thoughts again, and Arthur decides to drop the subject. They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. Arthur is sure the moment is over; sure that he just doesn’t feel like sharing.

 

But then Merlin surprises him.

 

“I like it here.”

He says it bluntly, but without shame. Arthur nods and opens his mouth to respond, but then Merlin continues.

 

“I think I could stay here. After two thousand years of…wandering…never settling in one place for too long…I just want…I want a _home_ , Arthur. A real home.”

 

Arthur smiles fondly at Merlin and reaches over to take Merlin’s hand.

 

“Now that you’re back, Arthur…for the first time in two millennia…I finally feel like I can actually _have one_.”

 

Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand as he thinks over how to respond. He’s touched at the idea that Merlin wants to find a home with him; to build a life together. He’s happy for Merlin, and grateful for the second chance at life that he’s been given. And it’s that thought, more than any other, which makes him realize he already knows how he needs to answer.

 

“I’d like that, too. Someday. But, Merlin…we have a job to do. You know that, right?”

 

Merlin shakes his head, and Arthur hates to see the tears rise in his eyes.

 

“I know, but it’s…it’s not _fair_ , Arthur. Why do you owe the world anything? Why do _I_? After everything I’ve done – everything _we’ve_ done – don’t we deserve…to rest?”

 

Arthur lets go of Merlin’s hand and wraps his arm around his shoulder instead, pulling him close. Merlin sighs as he rests his head against Arthur’s chest – right on the mark he left over Arthur’s heart.

 

“Yes, we do,” Arthur insists. “But my being here is _a gift_ , Merlin. It’s a debt that I need to repay. And then, well…the real reward is whatever we make it. You and me. _Together_. But first….”

 

Merlin breathes deep, then tilts his head to plant a soft kiss on Arthur’s neck. “One more mission.”

 

Arthur nods. “That’s right. And after that?”

 

Merlin sits up slowly and stares at Arthur, a question in his eyes. “I told you what I want, Arthur. But what do _you_ want?”

 

Arthur smiles at him, and his eyes ask, _Isn’t it obvious?_ He grabs Merlin’s face gently between his hands and kisses him, slowly and deeply. When he pulls away, Merlin is left gasping for air. Arthur kisses him on the forehead and whispers his answer so quietly that only they can hear it.

 

“ _You._ ”

 

_…tbc…_


	8. A Promise

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Seven: A Promise**

 

That night, Sibyl invites them to sit down to dinner with her. Over a meal of carrots, crude yet surprisingly tasty bread, and fresh rabbit, Sibyl tells them everything she knows about Malus.

 

Most of what she has to say Merlin already knows from his talk with Kilgharrah. How the ancient malevolence was born from the darkness in the world, cast into a deep slumber by the dragons, and spent thousands of years feasting on the evil growing in mankind. How It is a dark magic, evil at heart: a counter to Merlin and everything he stands for.

 

“Kilgharrah told me to think of it as a dark to my light. That magic, like every element, is made up of a dark side and a light side, and that’s what keeps the world in balance.”

 

Sibyl nods. “Your dragon friend is right. Malus is a manifestation of the dark side of magic: magic used from greed, ignorance, jealousy. It’s been feeding off the growing darkness in the world for millennia, Merlin. The fourth World War gave It the last bit of strength It needed to crawl Its way back into the world.”

 

Arthur shudders, and Merlin places a hand gently on his knee. Arthur smiles in gratitude as he speaks. “This is why I was brought back. I know it is. I’m meant to fight this evil. To defeat It. But…how do you fight something like this?” Arthur asks hopelessly.

 

“Arthur.” Merlin grasps Arthur’s hand in his own and squeezes it tightly. “You won’t be fighting It alone.”

 

“He’s right,” Sibyl replies. A small smile lights up her face, and Arthur thinks it’s the first time he’s seen her look hopeful. “You must fight It _together_. _That_ is why you’ve been brought back, Arthur. You and Merlin must fight this evil, and you must defeat It. Otherwise….”

 

She trails off, but Arthur doesn’t need to hear her say it. All that’s left of the good in the world will be gone, unless he and Merlin can defeat the greatest evil the world has ever known.

 

“No pressure,” Merlin says with a half hearted laugh, and Arthur finds himself smiling.

 

“Always trying to lighten the mood. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you, Merlin.” He leans over and kisses Merlin unexpectedly on the cheek. Arthur can just make out a telltale blush on Merlin’s face by the light of the fire, and he laughs.

 

After a moment’s pause to collect himself, Merlin finally asks the important question: “So…do you know how we defeat It?”

 

Sibyl nods. “I do, though I didn’t have the answer until the night you arrived here. That night I had a dream. I didn’t see the final outcome, but I know what you need to do.” Sibyl turns to Merlin and smiles knowingly. “You remember the griffon you helped Lancelot defeat all those years ago?”

 

Merlin grins. “Even after all this time, how could I forget?”

 

Arthur frowns. “ _Lancelot_ defeated that griffon?”

 

“Of course, Arthur, but that’s not important right now. I enchanted his sword. It was the combination of my magic and his strength that killed the monster.”

 

“Yes,” Sibyl agrees. “Your magic, his courage. Both working together. That’s what defeated it, and that’s what will work this time. Your magic…and Excalibur. The sword of the Once and Future King, forged in a dragon’s breath, combined with the power of Emrys’ magic, is the only thing that can kill Malus.”

 

Arthur feels his heart lift just a little bit. “That’s it? Merlin must enchant the sword and then I…stab It?”

 

Sibyl nods. “Essentially, yes.”

 

“But how do we find Malus?” Merlin asks quietly.

 

“ _That_ is where the trouble lies. There’s no way we can know for sure just where It will be at any given time. We need to find a way to pinpoint where It will be, or find a way to get It where we want It."

 

“So we’re back at square one,” Merlin replies dejectedly.

 

Sibyl smiles gently and reaches over the fire carefully, placing her hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t lose faith, Emrys. Over the years I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I have a good feeling about this. Now that Arthur is back…well, between the two of you-”

 

“We can do anything,” Arthur finishes, and he squeezes Merlin’s hand once more.

 

Merlin looks up at him with a smile. “You’re right,” he says with a laugh.

 

“Of course I am, Merlin,” Arthur teases. “I’m the Once and Future King. I’m always right.”

 

Merlin swats him playfully on the arm. “You’re letting that nickname go to your head, _my lord_.”

 

Arthur laughs. He shifts slightly in an attempt to ruffle Merlin’s hair like he knows he hates, and then he gasps in pain.

 

Sibyl shakes her head. “Let _me_ worry about how we’ll find Malus. For now, you two should rest. You’ll be no use against It in your current states.”

 

“No, we won’t,” Merlin agrees. He stands up, and with his hand still wrapped firmly in Arthur’s, he pulls him up, too. Arthur accepts the help gratefully, sighing once he’s on his feet. He hadn’t realized just how exhausted he really is. Maybe he _does_ need a bit of rest. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Do you have somewhere we can both sleep?” Merlin asks Sibyl.

 

“I think I can find something.”

 

* * *

 

Sibyl sets them up in the small storage shed next to the infirmary cabin. She and Merlin empty the shed, moving the supplies into Sibyl’s cabin and a corner of the infirmary. It leaves Merlin and Arthur with a small, yet decent sized cozy space.

 

Arthur promises they will only stay for a week at the most; just long enough for him and Merlin to regain their strength.

 

A week goes by, and Merlin insists that Arthur still isn’t well enough.

 

The energy that Merlin took from Arthur seems to have restored Merlin to good health, and he rests with Arthur for a few days before deciding that he needs to help out in the village.

 

“I need to earn our keep, Arthur. And you need your rest.”

 

Arthur doesn’t really have the energy to argue with him. More than that, Arthur has begun to accept that Merlin isn’t a complete idiot, and that he _can_ be right about certain things. So Arthur sets aside his kingly pride and does as Merlin asks.

 

While Arthur rests, Merlin helps however he can. He hunts with the villagers, tends the fields, works in the gardens and the orchard.

 

He does everything without magic. While the people of the village have begun to accept Sibyl’s prophecy, he’s not sure how they will take to a direct use of magic.

 

Two weeks go by, and Merlin decides they still aren’t ready to go.

 

“We still have no idea how to find Malus,” Merlin argues. “Kilgharrah said that Sibyl would have the answers. We just have to hope she’ll find a way.”

 

Arthur begins to help in the village when Merlin finally deems him well enough. He helps with the hunting at first because that’s naturally where he excels. But then one day he decides to help Merlin in the fields. The next day they help in the garden, and the next in the orchard.

 

He talks to the villagers as they work; getting to know what he can about them and the home they have built for themselves. The people warm to him quickly, and it makes Merlin smile.

 

One day, Arthur explains why he feels the need to help out everywhere he can.

 

“I want to see as much of the village as possible, Merlin. I want to see how the people live, how they survive. I want to help them. I want to get to know them better. I just…I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”

 

Merlin surprises him with a kiss so intense Arthur’s afraid his knees will give out.

 

“What was that for?” he pants when they finally come up for air.

 

“ _That’s_ what makes you the Once and Future King, Arthur. You don’t even have a kingdom anymore, yet you’re still acting like a king.”

  
  
“I don’t understand,” Arthur replies.

 

“Getting to know the people, trying to help them in any way you can. That’s what made you a great king, Arthur. It’s also what makes you a great man. And it’s what I…well, it’s what I love the most about you.”

 

Then Arthur surprises Merlin with a kiss of his own.

 

* * *

 

 

One day, Merlin asks if they can work at the daycare. Arthur’s never been very comfortable with children, but he can tell from the look on Merlin’s face that this means a lot to him, and he agrees with a smile.

 

Arthur, so used to seeing a Merlin who never knew when to shut up, found it strange to see him so quiet with the villagers. It’s in the daycare that Merlin finally begins to blossom. He bonds with the children in a way he can’t seem to bond with the adults.

 

One day, Arthur wakes to find Merlin already gone from their bed. He heads to the daycare, and his heart leaps in his chest at the sight that greets him. Merlin’s juggling three rocks in the air…without touching them.

 

It’s the first time Merlin’s used his magic since they arrived in the village two weeks ago, and Arthur smiles as he walks over to join him.

 

That morning, Merlin shows the children small bits of his magic. He makes objects float and disappear. He makes flowers grow. Then he creates small blue butterflies out of nothing, and it’s Arthur’s favorite trick, because the way Merlin’s face lights up when he does it makes Arthur’s heart flutter happily, like he’s a boy with a crush all over again.

 

As Merlin and Arthur head back to their small hut to eat, Merlin explains how he finally found the courage to show his magic.

 

“I have Sibyl to thank,” Merlin says gratefully. “I’ve found it a bit…hard to open up to the people here.”

 

“I noticed,” Arthur replies.

 

“The past 2,000 years…let’s just say I’ve…I’ve been through a lot, Arthur.” Merlin’s voice trembles at the end, and Arthur touches Merlin’s shoulder gently, forcing him to stop.

 

“It’s all right, Merlin. You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.”

 

Merlin nods, biting his lip. “I’ve spent so much of the last 200 years alone. Since the end of the war. It’s just…I’m finding it hard to be around people again.”

 

Arthur nods in understanding. He puts his other hand on Merlin’s back and leads him to the shade of a big tree. They sit at its base, Arthur with his back to the tree and Merlin curled up against his chest.

 

“Sibyl suggested I check out the daycare. She thought maybe it would be good for me. And you know…she was right. I found it easier to talk to the children. They don’t expect anything from me, and I never feel like…I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain,” Merlin says, a twinge of regret in his voice.

 

“Merlin…I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through. Living through what you have, seeing the things you’ve seen. Just… _living_. For so long. It would take its toll on anyone.”

 

“The magic helps, Arthur,” Merlin responds with a smile. “Just…being able to use it in front of people. Even if it’s just the children. Sibyl came by the daycare this morning and told them everything. About you, about me. About our mission to destroy Malus. The children look up to her, trust her, in a way that the adults never really have. Her visions seem like magic to them, and she thought that they’d like to see _real_ magic.”

 

Arthur smiles at the memory of that morning. The looks of awe and wonder on the children’s faces. The flowers blooming around them and the blue butterflies flying on the breeze. The look of pure joy on Merlin’s face.

 

Arthur leans over and kisses Merlin gently on top of his head.

 

“I haven’t seen you so happy since I got back,” Arthur says fondly. “I like it.”

 

Merlin laughs and pulls Arthur’s arms tighter around him.

 

“So do I.”

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin continues to help out in the daycare. While Arthur would like nothing more than to spend all his time with Merlin, he just can’t bond with the children the way Merlin does. He spends his days in the woods, the fields, or the gardens. As the sun sets, he heads to the daycare to find Merlin.

 

Another week goes by, faster than either of them would like. Every night Arthur asks Sibyl if she has seen where Malus is, and every night Sibyl shakes her head. She hasn’t had any visions about Malus since they’ve arrived.

 

Merlin becomes particularly attached to a young boy at the daycare. At Merlin’s insistence, Arthur gets to know the boy. He’s smart, good at talking to people and getting what he wants. He’s generous and caring, and a natural born leader. He’s also the son of the Head Elder of the village.

 

One night, as Merlin and Arthur lie curled around each other, Merlin tries to explain why he’s so attached to Samuel. “To be honest, he reminds me a lot of you, Arthur.”

 

Arthur laughs. “Actually, Merlin, I was going to say he reminds me of _you_.”

 

Merlin smiles and curls in closer to Arthur. He rests his head on Arthur’s chest. As Arthur wraps his arms around him, Merlin strokes the handprint over Arthur’s heart absentmindedly. Over the past few weeks, it’s faded from bright red to a soft white. Arthur feels sure he will bear the mark for the rest of his life. No matter how many times he tries to convince Merlin that he’ll never regret what he did, the sight of it still makes Merlin frown, his eyes clouding over with guilt.

 

“Merlin, you know I don’t-”

 

“I like it here,” Merlin whispers, so quietly Arthur can barely hear him.

 

“I know,” Arthur responds, tracing his hand down Merlin’s arm and causing him to shiver slightly. He grips Merlin’s hand in his own and squeezes firmly. “I do, too. But, Merlin, you know we can’t-”

 

“ _Why can’t we, Arthur?”_ Merlin asks vehemently. He lets go of Arthur’s hand and sits up, pulling away from him. He doesn’t look angry, and Arthur finds himself wishing that he would. Anger would be easier to deal with than the look of despair and regret and the tears building in Merlin’s eyes. “Why can’t we have this life? This is all I want, Arthur. I want to settle down and live quietly. I want to _grow old_ , Arthur. And I want to do it _with you_. Just you and me.” Merlin looks away, his face red, from embarrassment or anger Arthur’s not sure.

 

Arthur sits up with a sigh. He reaches a hand out to Merlin, but Merlin pulls away just the slightest, and Arthur stops. “Merlin…I want that, too.”

 

“You do?” Merlin asks in surprise, looking at Arthur hopefully.

 

Arthur laughs, then forces himself to stop at the look on Merlin’s face.

 

“Merlin, after 2,000 years, you really _are_ still an idiot.”

 

Merlin smiles, and he finally looks back at him. “I couldn’t change too much, Arthur. You’d never recognize me if I wasn’t still an idiot.”

 

“You’re right,” Arthur chuckles. With the tension broken, he reaches out a hand again. This time, he places it gently on Merlin’s knee, and Merlin doesn’t pull away.

 

“Merlin, I want that life, too. More than anything.” He moves his hand up to Merlin’s cheek and cradles his face gently. Merlin leans into the touch and closes his eyes. “But we have to face this evil first. If we don’t, there won’t be a world left to live in. Malus will destroy everything, including this village, if we don’t stop It.”

 

But then Merlin shakes his head, pulling away from his touch, and Arthur watches helplessly as tears fall down Merlin’s face.

 

“But why does it have to be _us,_ Arthur? Why can’t it be someone else? After everything you’ve done, after everything _I’ve_ done for this world…I deserve to be selfish.”

 

Arthur feels tears rising in his own eyes, but he holds them back for Merlin’s sake.

 

“I know you do, Merlin. It’s not fair. Believe me, _I know_. But we have to accept it. It has to be us. You and me. _We can do this, Merlin_. Believe it. Believe _in us_.”

 

Arthur reaches over and grabs Merlin’s hands, holding them tightly in his own. Merlin tries to pull away again, but Arthur refuses to let go.

 

“We will face this evil, and we _will_ defeat it. I know we can win. Because we have something to fight for. This village. _Our future_. Merlin….”

 

Arthur lets go of Merlin’s hands and grasps his face. He wipes away the tears he finds there, kisses the tracks they’ve left behind. When he finally kisses Merlin, he pours all the love and determination into the kiss that he can. Merlin has to know he believes in him, believes in _them_ , or the future they both want so badly will never be theirs.

 

Finally, Merlin lets out a quiet sob and then kisses him back. He gasps out Arthur’s name, and Arthur kisses him harder, pushing him back against the bedding.

 

“Believe in this, Merlin,” Arthur gasps, kissing Merlin’s collarbone. “Believe in us.”

 

Merlin moans in response.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers desperately. “I love you. I always have. Even when we were back in Camelot. I just couldn’t see it. I was scared. I was-”

 

“It’s all right,” Merlin whispers, nipping lightly at the spot behind Arthur’s ear that always drives him crazy. Arthur groans. “It’s all right, Arthur. I know. I never lost faith in you, Arthur. I’m not going to start now.” Then he kisses Arthur again, and for the next ten minutes the only words they exchange are each other’s names. Whispered, moaned, grunted, praised. They lose themselves in each other, and when Arthur finally comes inside Merlin, he thinks that nothing, not even Malus, could ever tear them apart.

 

* * *

 

 

Afterward, Arthur lies in a quiet haze, slowly drifting off to sleep. He wakes at the feel of Merlin stroking the handprint on his chest.

 

“Arthur…when this is over….” Merlin pauses, then places his hand over the mark, mirroring the image that his magic has left behind. “I’m done with magic.”

 

Arthur frowns. That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. He places his hand on top of Merlin’s. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I’m done, Arthur. I’ve had enough of magic. When we’ve destroyed Malus, I want to settle down. Just you and me. Somewhere quiet, just the two of us. Maybe start a farm, build our own place. But I want to live without magic.”

 

“Why are you saying this, Merlin? Is it about what you did to me? I’ve told you a million times to forget about it. I don’t regret what happened. If I hadn’t done it-”

 

“It’s not just about that, Arthur. I promise it’s not. I like showing the children magic, and I like using it to help people. It’s just that…I feel _old,_ Arthur. Two thousand years is a long time, and I’m just…I’m _tired_. I’m tired of using magic to solve the world’s problems. I’m tired of being Emrys. After all this time, I just want to be…I just want to be _Merlin_.”

 

Arthur smiles. “I like the magic, Merlin.” Merlin frowns at him in disbelief and Arthur laughs. “It’s true. I like watching you make the flowers grow, making those little balls of light, and those blue butterflies. But it’s not just the magic I like to see. I like how it makes you _smile_. I like how happy it seems to make you. How you enjoy showing it off to me.”

 

“I don’t enjoy-”

 

“Yes you do, Merlin,” Arthur says with a laugh. “You like showing it to me. You like that I know about it now. That I’ve accepted it.”

 

Merlin grins. “You know me too well, dollophead.”

 

Arthur rolls his eyes. “The point is, Merlin…if magic ever stops making you happy…then I don’t want you to use it. It only makes me happy because it makes _you_ happy. If you want to stop using magic when this is over, Merlin, I won’t argue.”

 

Merlin smiles warmly, and he leans down and kisses him gently. When he pulls away, he whispers, “Thank you, Arthur.”

 

They lie quietly for a few minutes, and just when Arthur thinks that Merlin’s finally fallen asleep, he breaks the silence.

 

“Arthur…I’ve been thinking.”

 

“That’s never good.”

 

“I’m serious,” Merlin responds, swatting him playfully on the chest.

 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur chuckles. “Go on.”

 

“I’ve been thinking…watching the way you interact with the villagers. Maybe fighting Malus isn’t the only reason you’re back.”

 

“What do you mean?” Arthur asks, but he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer. It’s something he’s wanted to discuss with Merlin, but with all the talk about settling down alone after defeating Malus, he hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

 

“You want to help this village, Arthur. You want to lead these people. You want to rebuild. And not just here. You want to help the country. Join the villages together. Help the world start over.”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur says his name in disbelief. “How do you know all of that? I haven’t-”

 

“You don't need to say anything, Arthur. It’s written all over your face every day. It’s obvious in everything you do. Being a king, being a leader, it’s in your _blood_ , Arthur. It’s what makes you _you._ I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone, better than I know _myself_ , and I’ve had to live with me for two thousand years.”

 

“Yeah, I’m not sure even _I_ could put up with you for that long.”

 

“My _point_ , Arthur, is that I know you want to help the world. And I want to help you with that. I do. But I also want….”

 

Arthur shifts on the bed so he’s facing Merlin. “You’re right, Merlin. I want to try and fix things. The world’s just so…broken right now. And I want to try and set it right. But I also want to be with you. Settle down somewhere. Start that farm you were talking about.”

 

“Well...why can’t we have both?” Merlin asks hopefully.

 

Arthur smiles. “My thoughts exactly. I’ll do what I can for this village, and the villages around it. And then we’ll build that farm, Merlin. We can have both. We _deserve_ to have both. I want you to be happy.”

 

“And I want the same for you,” Merlin replies quietly.

 

“So it’s a promise, then. We’ll rebuild the world…and then we’ll build our own world.”

 

Merlin leans over and kisses him firmly, and Arthur kisses him back.

 

“It’s a promise,” Merlin agrees.

 

_…tbc…_


	9. The Face of Evil

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Eight: The Face of Evil**

 

One day, as Merlin and Arthur are working the fields together, Arthur asks Merlin to tell him more stories about the world he has missed. Merlin tells him a story about how he met Leonardo DaVinci and became one of his closest friends. The name doesn’t mean anything to Arthur, but he likes the joy that lights up Merlin’s face as he talks about his friendship with one of history’s most talented artists and inventors. It’s during this talk that Merlin as an idea.

 

That night, Merlin lays a gentle hand on Arthur’s forehead and shows him what it was like to fly among the stars. Behind closed eyes, Arthur sees the vastness of space, the dark stretching on forever, and he’s afraid he might drown in it, the vision is so vivid. But then he sees the stars; millions of tiny pricks of light shining in the black, and the loneliness starts to fade. He sees the moon up close, astonished to find that it really _is_ a giant rock, covered in canyons, that doesn’t give off a light of its own, but rather reflects the light of the sun, the giant bright star closer than the rest.

 

The scene changes, and he manages to catch a glimpse of the planet Merlin called Mars before the sight fades and he’s back in their tiny cabin. He gasps sharply, as though he hasn’t breathed since Merlin laid a hand on him. Merlin, meanwhile, is bent over slightly, breathing heavily, and Arthur reaches out to him, afraid. But then Merlin raises his head and smiles.

 

“I wasn’t sure that would work,” he says breathlessly. “I’ve never done it before. Took a bit out of me. Did you see it?”

 

Arthur stares at him, mouth agape. When he finally finds words, all he can say is, “Can you do that again?”

 

Merlin grins.

 

* * *

 

Over the next two weeks, Merlin takes time every night to show Arthur visions of his past. It drains him less and less the more he does it, and Arthur can’t seem to get enough.

 

Merlin mentions that he actually got the idea from one of his favorite books from the 20th century, _The Giver_. Merlin doesn't project physical feelings like the Giver did, though. He explains that it’s more like watching a television – a device that broadcasts images - only the images are broadcast straight into Arthur’s head. He can see for himself anything Merlin wants to show him. In this way, Arthur sees Merlin’s past through his own eyes.

 

It’s like nothing Arthur has ever experienced, and he loves it. He begins to look forward to those quiet moments by the lake, under the trees in the orchard, and in the warmth of their bed.

 

Merlin only shows him happy memories at first. Seeing the first Shakespeare play performed in The Globe, Martin Luther King giving his “I Have a Dream” speech, the first openly gay US President signing the bill to make same sex marriage legal in all 52 states.

 

Arthur likes watching the world grow and change, seeing mankind evolve in ways he never could have dreamed of.

 

But as much as he enjoys it, Arthur’s still curious about how the world fell apart. One night, he asks Merlin to show him.

 

Merlin’s hesitant at first, but Arthur needs to know. Seeing all the good in the world, he can’t quite understand how everything could go so wrong.

 

So Merlin shows him the bad things. War, homelessness, disease. Merlin never shows him a lot at once. Every day, before he shows him something else, he asks if Arthur is sure. And as much as it hurts, Arthur says yes.

 

He needs to know.

 

He sees bombs fall, hears children cry and women scream, watches cities burn and people run in terror, not knowing what to do or where to go.

 

One night, Arthur comes out of a vision to find Merlin crying. Arthur pulls him close and promises he won’t ask to see the bad things anymore.

 

Then he asks Merlin to show him the stars.

 

It’s the last time Merlin shows Arthur a vision of the past, good or bad. Merlin never offers again, and Arthur never has the heart to ask.

 

* * *

 

Two nights after showing Arthur the stars for the last time, the nightmares start.

 

Arthur jerks awake to find the small hut quaking around them, and turns to find Merlin tossing next to him, drenched in sweat and groaning quietly. He catches Merlin mumbling faintly, words that sound like “no” and “no more” and “please, stop.” It reminds Arthur painfully of the night when Malus first came into the world and left Merlin screaming and crying, unable to control his magic.

 

Arthur puts a firm hand on Merlin’s shoulder, ready to wake him, when Merlin lets out a bloodcurdling scream and sits up violently. Arthur feels a slight shock go through him, and it’s enough to cause him to let go, but he doesn’t fly across the room like he was afraid he would.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur calls his name tentatively, not wanting to scare him more than he’s already been scared.

 

Merlin doesn’t hear him. He’s sitting up, clutching the blankets close to his naked chest, and despite the sheen of sweat covering his body Merlin is shivering.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur tries again. This time, he puts a gentle hand on Merlin’s shoulder in an attempt to reach out to him.

 

Merlin flinches, but he turns toward him, and that’s when Arthur notices the tears on Merlin’s cheeks.

 

“Arthur,” Merlin gasps. “Oh, god. Arthur. It’s…I can’t….” He’s trembling now, arms tangled in the blankets as he tries to hug them closer to his body.

 

“It’s all right,” Arthur reassures him. “You’re safe now.” He reaches out with his other hand and pulls Merlin close to him, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Merlin shivers again, and though he doesn’t let go of the blankets he rests his head on Arthur’s shoulder and lets himself be held.

 

“It’s not…it’s not all right,” he mumbles into Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“What did you see, Merlin?” Arthur asks quietly. He pulls Merlin as close as he can and holds on tight, preparing himself for what Merlin will have to say. Because he knows, deep down, that this wasn’t just some run of the mill nightmare.

 

“They’re…Arthur…they’re all dead.”

 

* * *

 

 

An entire town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, thousands of miles away in the United States. One of the very first safe places that was settled in the US during the last World War. A town called Salvation.

 

Swallowed by the earth.

 

Completely destroyed.

 

Two thousand people gone. Just like that. All it took was five minutes and an earthquake to rival any the world had ever seen.

 

Five minutes. Two thousand people gone, their lives snuffed out, their light gone from the world. Just like that.

 

Merlin stands on a mountaintop and watches the town fall into the earth. Hears the cries of despair and sadness and pain, so much pain. Watches the ground quake, split open, and swallow everyone and everything in its path.

 

Five minutes.

 

When it’s over, Merlin hears a faint laughter coming from the earth where Salvation once stood. It grows in intensity, until Merlin can feel the mountain itself trembling beneath his feet.

 

He hears the deep, malevolent laughter echo around him, so strong he can feel it vibrating in his bones and boiling his blood in his veins.

 

It’s the most terrible sound he’s ever heard in his life, and though he’s never done so before he finds himself praying; praying that this will be the last time he has to hear the sound of the triumph of pure evil.

 

Whether it’s because he doesn’t ask loudly enough, or because there’s no one left to hear, he'll never be sure.

 

Either way, his prayer will go unanswered.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s Malus. Merlin knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that It’s responsible for the devastation in Salvation.

 

He also knows that his nightmare was more than just a dream: it was a vision. He can feel it in his heart, in the very center of his being. He can feel it in the way his magic flows through him. It doesn’t flow through him as it usually does: swift and calm, like a river in spring before the rains come. It rages through him, crashing violently, like a river during a storm, bashing against its banks and against rocks and fallen trees brought down by nature’s wrath.

 

He tells Arthur and Sibyl what happened in the “dream.” How he knows it’s a vision, how he knows that Malus opened up the earth and swallowed two thousand souls without batting an eye. How It knew Merlin was watching.

 

It was a show of strength. Malus wanted Merlin to know what It was capable of, what lengths It could go to to destroy the world Merlin holds so dear.

 

“It knows you’re Its greatest threat, Merlin,” Sibyl tells him. “It knows you’re the only one with any hope of stopping It.”

 

“It’s taunting you,” Arthur states, gripping Merlin’s hand tighter. “It wants you to act rashly, to come out and fight it before you’re ready.”

 

“Well, it’s working,” Merlin replies bitterly. “I have to face It, Arthur. It just killed two thousand people because It _could_. Because it was trying to prove a point. I have to stop it.”

 

“ _We_ have to stop it. Remember?” Arthur asks. “But we can’t dive into this without some kind of plan, Merlin. It’s suicide.”

 

“Arthur’s right,” Sibyl interjects. “We need to know _how_ to defeat It. And we also need to find a way to track it down, some way to meet with It, or talk to It. So far the only communication we’ve had with It is….”

 

Sibyl trails off, and no one really needs her to finish the sentence; truthfully, no one really wants her to.

 

In the end, Merlin says it, because when has Merlin ever been good at keeping his mouth shut?

 

“In my dreams. I’ll have to speak with It...when I’m asleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin wants to try right away, but Arthur puts his foot down. He’s still shaking from last night’s dream. There’s no way Arthur is going to let him try and speak with this thing right now. He needs to relax, spend a day at the lake, or under the trees in the orchard, _anything_. In the end, Merlin agrees, but only because he knows he’s too stressed to sleep right now.

 

So Arthur takes Merlin on a _real_ date.

 

He takes him on a short walk through the orchard. They sit in their favorite spot and have a picnic, eating apples right off the tree for dessert.

 

After lunch they wander into a quiet part of the fields, where the crops grow tall but aren’t ready for harvesting yet. They sit in the bright afternoon sun and talk about nothing. They end up making love between the rows of corn, and the idea that someone might happen by and discover them makes both of them tremble with the thrill of it.

 

They head to the lakeside and watch the sun set. They start an impromptu campfire at the water’s edge and half the village comes to join them. They eat and drink and Merlin even graces them with a song in Old English that makes Arthur’s heart ache for a time long gone.

 

When they climb into bed that night, Arthur kisses Merlin gently and wraps his arms around him.

 

“I’m right here, Merlin. Don’t forget that. No matter what happens. I’m right here.”

 

As Merlin drifts off to sleep, he marvels at the fact that for just one day, one glorious day, Arthur made him forget about his destiny.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Merlin watches an entire community buried deep in the jungles of South America destroy itself. The people in one village - men, women, and children alike - split into two groups with no discernable differences and then turn against each other. They fight to the death until one side is left standing. The elderly, the infants, and the very young all lie dead as the survivors trek through the jungles to a neighboring village.

 

The village welcomes them, as they always have.

 

Then the fighting starts all over again.

 

In the end, ten villages that used to defend and care for each other lie in ruins. No one knows who they’re fighting, or why. It’s kill or be killed. Alliances are formed and disbanded, sometimes within the span of minutes.

 

Merlin watches the villagers destroy one another. And when the fighting is over, the survivors left standing throw themselves over a cliff in anguish at the horror they’ve wrought.

 

Merlin knows there’s nothing he can do, and he watches helplessly. Tears fall silently down his face and he pays them no heed.

 

The last villager left, a young boy who can’t be more than twelve years old, turns to Merlin and begs for forgiveness. Merlin opens his mouth to give it, but finds that he can’t. The boy turns from him with a sob and throws himself over the cliff.

 

Merlin screams at the top of his lungs.

 

The sound of dark, deep laughter rises over the edge of the cliff as if in answer.

 

“Show yourself, you coward!”

 

The laughter only increases.

 

“Face me!” Merlin yells, anger rising in him. His magic flows through him hard and fast, and he senses when his eyes glow gold. “Tell me where I can find you.”

 

_“Not here.”_

It’s a whisper on the wind, so quiet he can barely hear it.

 

“Why not?” Merlin growls.

 

_“It is not strong enough here.”_

The whisper is louder this time, and Merlin recognizes that it’s just behind him. He turns to find the boy who he just watched jump off the cliff. Merlin flinches in horror at the sight of the boy standing there, his neck and back bent at horrible angles.

 

“Where…where can I find It?” Merlin asks, unable to keep the tremble from his voice.

 

_“The seer. She is the only one who has the power to commune with It. It needs a physical body to speak, and I am nothing more than a memory.”_

“Sibyl. She…she’ll know what to do?”

 

_“She will. Even now, It is showing her what needs to be done.”_

 

Merlin nods. Without warning, he feels the dream slipping away. As the jungle blurs around him, he looks toward the boy.

 

_“In sibbe gerest,”_ Merlin whispers.

 

Just for a second, the boy stands before him as he did before he jumped, and he smiles. Merlin wants to stay, but he can’t. The world slips away, but not before he hears:

 

“Thank you, Emrys.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Merlin awakes, he sits up quietly, and he can feel the tears drying on his cheeks. Arthur’s already sitting up next to him, looking at him worriedly.

 

“You were screaming in your sleep. I tried to wake you. I know you needed to talk to Malus, but I couldn’t stand seeing you like that. But you wouldn’t wake up, Merlin. I thought that-”

 

Merlin throws his arms around Arthur and buries his head in his chest. “Hold me. Please.”

 

And Arthur wraps his arms around Merlin and holds on tight.

 

“Always.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s early morning when they go to visit Sibyl. They find her already awake.

 

“I know how we can talk to Malus,” she states. “And I know how you can find the answer to destroying It.”

 

* * *

 

 

That night, just after sunset, Merlin, Arthur, and Sibyl hold hands around a campfire. The fire has been set on a slab of stone they found in the woods. Intricate symbols have been painted on the slab, and one larger than the others encircles the three of them and the campfire. The fire glows gold from an infusion of Merlin’s magic. At a few whispered words from Merlin the symbols glow gold as well.

 

“Remember: don’t let go of each other’s hands. If the circle breaks, I might lose touch with myself.”

 

Arthur shudders. This whole plan reeks like a bad idea. There’s so much magic in the air Arthur can practically taste it, and it’s making all the hairs on his body stand on end, like there’s an electric charge going through them. But he keeps his opinions to himself. Both Sibyl and Merlin seem sure that this will work. It’s just that...well, the idea that letting go could hurt or even kill Sibyl is a lot to handle. Arthur grips both of their hands tighter and says he understands.

 

Sibyl begins to utter the words of a spell. They sound like nonsense to Arthur, yet he can feel the darkness in them, as though she speaks a language wrought from pure evil. He shivers as the temperature drops quickly. He sits mere inches from the fire, but it feels like it’s burning cold instead of hot. As Sibyl chants, the wind picks up. Leaves and tree branches take off and fly past them, but nothing gets inside their magic circle. He can hear the wind and see it blowing, but all he can feel inside the circle is the _cold_. Merlin grips his hand tighter and says _“hǽte”_ and Arthur feels warmth flood through him. Soon the shivering stops and he smiles gratefully.

 

Arthur watches silently as a storm brews outside their circle. Thunder, lightning, rain, and wind ravage the forest around them, but they stay safe and dry and, thanks to Merlin, warm, within the confines of their symbol.

 

Sibyl chants louder and faster as the storm picks up. Lightning strikes a tree not ten feet from them, and only Merlin’s grip on his hand keeps him from breaking the circle.

 

Finally, Sibyl throws her head up to the sky and shouts _“krimpat burzum”_ and the world comes to a screeching halt.

 

Everything is quiet. And still. It’s as if time itself has stopped. The storm that was raging has calmed. The trees have stopped bending, raindrops and leaves sit hovering in midair, and when Arthur looks up he notices a streak of lighting frozen in the sky above them.

 

He looks back to Sibyl and finds her staring into the fire. The fire wavers gently, and in its golden glow Arthur sees that Sibyl’s eyes have gone pure black. He gasps, but doesn’t let go.

 

Finally, Sibyl looks up to Merlin with her empty black eyes, and the voice that leaves her is deep and gravelly, no longer her own.

 

_“Emrys…what an honor it is to finally speak to you in person.”_

“Malus,” Merlin replies bitterly. Arthur can practically hear the venom in his voice as he continues, “I wish I could say the same.”

 

Malus grins at him, and it’s a look so unlike anything that’s ever graced Sibyl’s face that it makes Arthur cringe.

 

_“You have great power, warlock. Great power, indeed. I respect that. We can never be friends, Merlin. I am not naïve enough to believe we could be. But two powerful forces such as ourselves should at least be able to treat each other with respect.”_

Arthur’s not sure if it’s the words themselves, or the way Malus speaks them, but he feels swayed to believe It. Malus is clearly powerful, but It’s also old and wise; trying to convince Merlin that they have something in common. Arthur finds that he’s nodding despite himself.

 

But when Merlin answers, it’s clear that he’s not buying anything.

“You don’t deserve it,” Merlin replies, practically spitting the words out. “You’re a coward. You’ve killed all these people, forced them to kill each other, yet you won’t face _me_. Even now you’re hiding in the body of this little girl, trying to taunt me.”

 

Malus frowns, and Arthur can feel Its anger growing from across the fire.

 

_“You would do well to watch how you speak to Me, boy. You may be over two thousand years old, but my age is beyond count. I am as old as the universe itself, and I will not be taunted by the likes of_ you _.”_

Merlin smiles, and the look sends shivers down Arthur’s spine. This isn’t _his_ Merlin: the clumsy, smart, curious, adorable, wonderful man he’s fallen in love with. This is Emrys: two thousand years of rage and agony and pure _power_ …and he’s not backing down.

 

“Oh, I think you will. Why else would you have agreed to speak with me directly? You’re afraid, Malus. You want this world all for yourself and you’re afraid I’m going to stop you. You want to take me down as soon as you can. And I want nothing more than to do the same to you.”

 

Malus smiles again. _“I am not afraid of you, Emrys. You pose a threat to Me, it is true. But I am not afraid of you.”_

“Then _fight me_ ,” Merlin goads him. “Two weeks from now, you pick the place. Fight me yourself; no more hiding inside children. Fight me alone.”

 

Malus grins once more, and Arthur’s more terrified than he’s ever been in his life, but he has to say something. “Fight both of us,” he responds, and he silently curses himself when his voice comes out weaker than he wanted it to.

 

Malus turns to him for the first time, and It throws Its head back and laughs. _“You are pathetic, Arthur Pendragon. You may have fought bravely in your past life, but you are_ nothing _against the likes of Me. Why you were even brought back is a mystery I cannot begin to fathom. If you want to throw away your second chance in an attempt to help Emrys, then I will gladly take your life as well.”_

Merlin grips Arthur’s hand tighter, though his eyes never leave Malus. “Two weeks time. Just pick the place, Malus. I’d like to go to sleep sometime tonight.”

 

_“Yes, I suppose you would, warlock. I am sure you cannot wait to sleep so you can watch Me destroy more of the world you love.”_

Its words have the desired effect. Merlin seems to shrink into himself, and the laugh that escapes Malus’ throat is one of pure darkness.

 

_“Sunrise. Two weeks from tomorrow morning. Camelot’s throne room. The ruins of the place you once called home; it seems an appropriate place to destroy you.”_

“We’ll be there,” Arthur responds. He puts as much courage as he can behind his words, drawing strength from Merlin’s hand still gripped tightly in his own. “We’ll be ready.”

 

Malus grins. _“You really think you can destroy Me, Pendragon? You really think you and your_ lover _have what it takes?”_

Arthur looks at Merlin. Arthur sees fear and doubt in his eyes, but then Merlin smiles at him and squeezes his hand, and all Arthur sees is love.

 

It’s enough for him.

 

He turns back to Malus.

 

“Yes. I do.”

 

Malus smirks, clearly unimpressed.

 

_“This is not a fairytale, Arthur Pendragon. This is real life. Good does not always win, and love does not conquer all.”_

Arthur thinks about everything Merlin has told him and shown him about the past two thousand years.

 

“Maybe not,” he replies. “But this time _it will_.”

 

Malus scoffs. _“Humans. As I said before: pathetic. See you in two weeks.”_

In the blink of an eye the storm rages once more, the fire burns out, and Sibyl collapses to the ground.

 

_…tbc…_


	10. Promises to Keep

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Nine: Promises to Keep**

 

Two days later, Merlin and Arthur say goodbye to Sibyl and the rest of the village and begin their journey back to the ruins of Camelot. Arthur hugs Sibyl and thanks her for everything she’s done for them. She smiles at him and tells him it was her pleasure.

 

“I feel like I’ve finally found a purpose for my visions,” she says to them. “Helping you two save the world, even in such a small way…it’s why I’ve been given this gift in the first place.”

 

“You don’t see it as a curse anymore?” Merlin asks, and Arthur hears a hint of doubt and awe in his voice.

 

Sibyl smiles. “I used to. But now…I have faith in you. Both of you. I haven’t seen the outcome of this fight, but I know that if you work together, you have all the power you need to defeat It. It was my destiny to meet you and to help set you on the right path.”

 

“Destiny,” Merlin scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “I know all about _destiny_.”

 

Arthur frowns at the anger in Merlin’s voice, and he steps up behind him and pulls him close to his chest.

  
“Hey, we talked about this, remember? We’re going to fight this thing, and we’re going to win. Then it’s just you and me. For as long as you can stand me, at least,” Arthur says with a chuckle, and he plants a swift kiss on top of Merlin’s head.

 

Merlin laughs, and the feel of it sends warmth flooding through Arthur’s veins.

 

“I waited two thousand years for you, Arthur. I think I can stand to spend a few measly decades with you.”

 

“I should hope so,” Arthur replies, letting go of him. “We should be heading out.” Arthur bends down and puts on his backpack, filled to the brim with clothes, food, and medicine that the village has been kind enough to give them. “Ready, Merlin?”

 

“In a minute,” Merlin replies. “There’s something I need to ask Sibyl.”

 

“All right,” Arthur responds.

 

“In private.”

 

* * *

 

It takes them a week to return to Camelot; a journey that took them almost two weeks in the other direction. They don’t rush, because though neither of them will admit it, they aren’t in a hurry to face what lies ahead of them. Instead, they take in the scenery around them. They spend a few nights exploring abandoned towns, visiting villages bursting with life, and enjoying the bits of countryside that remain surprisingly untouched by the wars of man.

 

They start their journey in good spirits. Arthur’s not sure what Merlin needed to talk to Sibyl about, but he doesn’t ask. If Merlin wants to talk about it, he will.

 

Merlin’s happy at first to show him some of the sights they missed on their way to Windermere, bogged down as they were by storms and Merlin’s being ill. They find good weather and plenty of food on their way.

 

They visit Victor and Ella, the kind couple who let them sleep under their roof more than a month ago. Merlin and Arthur offer them the whole deer they were able to kill earlier that day, and that night the entire village gathers together for a feast. With their deer and what food the village has, it’s not a terribly large feast, but it's a feast none the less. There’s singing and dancing, music played on hand carved instruments, and a bonfire. Merlin takes the younger children aside and shows them some of his magic tricks with the fire. Arthur’s favorite is the golden dragon that hovers gently over the flames and shimmers brilliantly in the dark.

 

As the feast winds down, Merlin and Arthur sneak off to the edge of the forest and make love under the stars. Arthur’s never felt closer to Merlin, and he doesn’t think he’s ever loved him more than he does that night.

 

They sleep soundly under Victor and Ella’s roof…until Merlin wakes in the morning screaming.

 

“An island,” Merlin gasps. “An entire island. Somewhere in the Caribbean. One minute everyone’s sleeping, and then the next the entire island is flooding. Everyone’s running in terror, screaming, but there’s nowhere to go. The whole place is flooding. Everything…every _one_ , just…just gone. Dead. In a matter of minutes. Thousands of lives just…oh, god. Arthur….”

 

Arthur pulls Merlin close and rubs his back soothingly as Merlin sobs in his arms.

 

“There’s nothing you could do.”

 

“Arthur…we have to…we have to stop It.”

 

“We will. We will,” Arthur whispers soothingly. “It’s going to be all right.”

 

And he believes it.

 

He’s just not sure if Merlin believes it, too.

 

* * *

 

The closer they get to Camelot, the quieter Merlin gets. Arthur knows he's upset and tired from the visions, which haven’t stopped since they left Victor and Ella’s village. He does what he can to comfort Merlin. Holds him close at night, wakes him when he starts to moan or shake, attempts to keep the nightmares at bay. It helps a bit, but Arthur knows Merlin won’t truly be okay until they defeat Malus.

 

One morning, as they sit quietly and finish their breakfast, Merlin tells him that they’ll reach the cabin by nightfall. But first-

 

“I need to stop by the Crystal Caves. Sibyl told me that a friend would be able to help us.”

 

Arthur chuckles. “This friend...does he happen to be _a dragon,_ Merlin?”

 

Merlin laughs softly and then nods.

 

“Yes, I had a feeling he'd be the one to help us. Well, we should get moving then. We have about a week to come up with a plan.”

 

Merlin just nods in agreement and helps Arthur pack up camp.

 

* * *

  
 

Merlin is terrified.

 

He’s done his best to hide it from Arthur, but he’s not sure how well he’s succeeded. It’s not just the visions that have him on edge. Ever since his talk with Sibyl, Merlin’s had this… _feeling_ : a feeling that Sibyl only helped to confirm. Sibyl told him that he must return to the Crystal Caves; that Kilgharrah would tell him what needed to be done to stop Malus. Except Merlin could tell that Sibyl was hiding something, like she knew more than she was letting on; like she knew something she just didn’t want to tell him.

 

It’s just a feeling, a gut instinct: one that tells him this fight will not be easy.

 

That this fight will have a cost.

 

Arthur seems so sure of himself, so sure of _them_. Merlin’s tried to be optimistic, but Arthur hasn’t seen first hand what this Evil can do. He hasn’t been woken in the middle of the night to watch Malus destroy whole towns and communities of people.

 

The closer they get to the caves, the more Merlin _knows_. He can’t get rid of the horrible feeling that’s taken up residence in the pit of stomach. After two thousand years, he’s learned to trust his instincts.

 

And so he stands outside the caves and kisses Arthur deeply, pouring two thousand years of longing and love into it. When he pulls away, Arthur groans, and Merlin’s not surprised to find that both of them are shaking.

 

“Meet me at the cabin,” Merlin says quietly. “I’m not sure how long this will take.”

 

Arthur nods.

 

“I will.”

 

He caresses Merlin’s face between his trembling hands and kisses him quickly once more.

 

As Merlin turns away, he hopes desperately that he’s wrong. But his instincts haven’t proven wrong in two thousand years.

 

Why would they start today?  


* * *

 

Merlin enters the cave quietly, as he always does. He follows the light of the crystals to the back and finds Kilgharrah waiting for him.

 

He’s already awake. Every time Merlin’s come in the past he’s had to awaken the dragon by connecting to his magic. This time, Merlin finds that his magic is already singing through his veins, and if he’s honest with himself he’s felt it flowing stronger for days, the closer he’s come to Camelot.

 

“Young warlock…you’ve come seeking answers.”

 

“Please…just tell me what I need to do. I cannot bear the riddles. I’m _tired_ , old friend.”

 

Kilgharrah smiles fondly at him, a look Merlin’s only seen a handful of times from the old dragon, and Merlin finds that he’s shaking in anticipation.

 

“Look into the crystals, Merlin. They will show you what must be done.”

 

Merlin wills his feet to move the ten steps to the crystals lining the wall. And there, he watches his destiny unfold.

 

* * *

 

Merlin smiles at the fantastic dinner Arthur has laid out on the table when he returns. He smiles as he tells Arthur what he learned in the caves.

 

“That’s it?” Arthur asks suspiciously.

 

“That’s it. All I have to do is imbue your sword with my magic, and all you have to do is stab It.”

 

“It sounds…too easy,” Arthur replies nervously.

 

“That’s what I thought. There’s a complicated spell I must perform the night before inside the caves. I’ll be drawing magic from many sources, past and present, and from the world itself. My magic, combined with what I gain from the spell, channeled through Excalibur, will be enough to destroy Malus.”

 

“And in the meantime?”

 

“There isn’t much we can do until then. We’re free to do…whatever we want.”  


“ _Whatever_ we want?” Arthur asks with an impish grin.

 

Merlin grins right back at him.

 

“ _Anything_ , Arthur. As long as it’s just you and me.”

 

* * *

  
 

In the end, they spend their week doing everything and nothing. They spend one day wandering the ruins of Camelot, telling stories about all the adventures they once had in the castle’s walls. They talk about the silly times: times with farting trolls, and times when Arthur had no idea how to impress Gwen. They talk about serious times: times when they fought griffins and a dragon, and that time Arthur killed a unicorn and Camelot almost starved. They talk about the times they never had, before either of them realized how they felt about each other. Merlin talks about missed opportunities, and Arthur talks about how he's always wished he hadn’t been too afraid to say “I love you” that morning he died in Merlin’s arms.

 

He makes it up to Merlin that night in bed, and when they fall asleep Arthur promises he’ll never be afraid to say it ever again.

 

They spend another day wandering the forest, reliving nights spent under the stars and days spent hunting. Nights when they shivered in the rain, not knowing that a word from Merlin could have kept them dry and warm. Days when Merlin absolutely hated hunting and Arthur was too proud to notice just how much it bothered him.

 

They sleep naked under the stars that night, just the two of them, and even though it’s nearly winter and they should be freezing, neither of them feels cold.

 

They spend their week as though they’re trying to make up for all the time they lost before. Merlin seems happier than he’s been since Arthur died.

 

But then the week is over, faster than either of them wants it to be.

 

They wake up at sunrise the day before they are to face Malus, and Arthur asks Merlin what he wants to do. Merlin kisses him hungrily and says, “Nothing. I just want to be here with you.”

 

So they eat breakfast in bed, and Merlin reads to him from their favorite books. Then they eat lunch in bed, and Merlin tells Arthur stories about some of the other people he’s shared his life with. At one point, they lie quietly in each other’s arms and fall asleep, and when they awake the sun is low in the sky.

 

They eat cold leftovers for dinner. In bed.

 

As the sun begins to set, Merlin finally drags himself out of bed and gets dressed. Arthur pulls him close and kisses him hard, and the feel of Arthur naked against him is nearly enough to get him out of his clothes again. But he needs to leave. He’s not sure how long the spell will take.

 

While Merlin’s gone, Arthur decides to tidy up. They’ve been lazy today, and most of the week if he's honest. He puts on a pair of pants and cleans to pass the time. He straightens the outside of the cabin, too, pulling a few weeds that have managed to grow in the garden that Merlin keeps thriving year round with his magic. He picks a few flowers, and he frowns at how withered they look. Merlin said the magic around the cabin kept things growing year round, even in the winter. The flowers look like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

 

He brings a few of them inside and sets them in a vase of water, hoping they’ll perk up before Merlin comes back.

 

He stares at the flowers on the table for a good five minutes. Then he looks around the room, really _looks_ at it, and he finally sees it.

 

It’s not just the flowers that are wilting. The pictures on the walls look like they’re fading, crumbling at the edges. A few of them have even fallen off the walls, though he knows they were all up when he went outside. He replaces them gently, and the sound of crunching paper in his hands makes his heart start to race. He studies the books on the shelves and finds that they, too, are beginning to show their age. _Everything_ in the cabin is starting to look old.

 

Arthur sits on the edge of the bed, grips the sheets tightly as though they might steady him.

 

“The spell…it must be the spell,” Arthur mutters out loud to himself. “Merlin said he would be taking magic from the caves, from the world itself. He must be borrowing magic from here, as well.”

 

He lets out a sigh. Of course that’s what’s happening. It makes perfect sense. If Merlin’s going to have enough magic to face Malus, he must need to draw it from whatever sources he can, and what better source than one so close?

 

But then…he’s just not sure. There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head, a feeling in his gut, that says something’s wrong. That something’s been just slightly… _off_ all week. He’s not sure what it is, and he hates that he can’t shake the feeling.

 

* * *

 

Merlin finds him still sitting on the edge of the bed when he returns. He doesn’t seem to notice that all the pictures have fallen off the walls, or that the flowers have died in the vase.

 

Arthur notices it, though. He beckons Merlin over to the bed and wraps his arms around him, hands fisting the back of his sweatshirt. He rests his head on Merlin’s chest, hears his heart beating gently, and Arthur lets out a deep breath and just lets himself feel. Merlin puts a hand on his head and runs his fingers gently through Arthur’s hair.

 

“It’s done,” Merlin says quietly.

 

“I love you, Merlin,” Arthur says quietly into Merlin’s shirt, and he feels Merlin’s heartbeat pick up.

 

“I love you, too,” Merlin responds, but there’s a hint of confusion in his voice. “Arthur, what’s wrong?”

 

Arthur picks his head up from Merlin’s chest and looks deep into his eyes. Merlin looks away for just a second.

 

“Merlin…you remember that promise we made? Back in Windermere? ‘We’ll rebuild the world…and then we’ll build our own.’ Do you remember, Merlin?”

 

“Of course I do,” Merlin replies, and he sits down on the bed next to Arthur and takes Arthur’s hands in his own. “You and me, come whatever.”

 

“Swear it to me again. Swear that we will keep it. Please, Merlin.”

 

“Arthur, I-”

 

“ _Swear it_.”

 

Arthur can’t keep the panic from his voice no matter how hard he tries.

 

In the end, Merlin kisses him gently on the cheek.

 

“I swear it, Arthur.”

 

He doesn’t look him in the eyes when he says it.

 

They make love that night, and when they come with a whisper of each other’s names, Arthur feels tears rise in his eyes. Merlin holds Arthur in his arms as Arthur sobs quietly. When Merlin asks him what’s wrong, Arthur can’t explain it.

 

He just has this feeling that, while Merlin holds him close and tells him that it’s going to be okay, what he’s really saying is “goodbye.”

 

_…tbc…_


	11. Miles to Go Before I Sleep

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Ten: Miles to Go Before I Sleep**

 

They set out before sunrise the next morning. Neither of them feels hungry, but they eat out of habit anyway, knowing they’ll need their strength. As Merlin cleans up after breakfast, Arthur finds himself drawn to the pictures, all of which still lie on the floor. He picks one up, a particularly beautiful print of a painting Merlin called “Starry Night.” It’s one of Arthur’s favorites. He loves the colors, the gentle sweeps of the brushstrokes, and the fantastical image that it paints. He looks at it now and smiles, remembering a story Merlin told him about meeting the man who painted this so many centuries ago.

 

“When did they fall down?”

 

Arthur turns at the sound of Merlin’s voice.

 

“Last night. While you were at the caves performing your spell.”

 

Merlin frowns. “That must be it, then. Drawing on all that magic must have weakened the spells around the cottage.”

 

“Yes, that must be it,” Arthur agrees, but he doesn’t really believe it, and it must come across in his tone.

 

“What else would it be, Arthur?”

 

“It’s just…it’s just a feeling,” Arthur answers quietly, staring back down at the Van Gogh painting. “Like there’s…something else. Something you’re not telling me.”

 

“Arthur….”

 

Merlin gently takes the picture from him and places it on the table next to them. He takes Arthur’s hands between both of his own.

 

“We’re going to win, Arthur. I know it. I can feel it. The magic coursing through me…it’s strong. I’ve never felt more confident, not in two thousand years. We _will_ defeat Malus. And once he’s gone…we can do anything we want.”

 

Arthur sighs and grips Merlin’s hands tighter, trying to draw strength from him.

 

“Here,” Merlin says quietly, and he pulls one of his hands away and waves it at the floor. Arthur watches with a smile as all of the photographs, drawings, and paintings fly back up to the walls, all sticking back in their original spots effortlessly.

 

“Is that better?”

 

Arthur nods.

 

“All right. Come on, we should get going.”

 

* * *

 

They walk to Camelot without saying a word. Arthur hates the silence, but he just doesn’t know what to say to break it. Merlin seems lost deep in his thoughts, and it only makes Arthur more nervous.

 

The closer they get to Camelot, the more Arthur can’t shake the feeling that something is just _wrong_.

 

The sun is starting to peek over the mountains far away when they reach the throne room. Arthur gazes at his armor, cloak, and sword, lying just where they left them many weeks ago. He brushes his fingers over the golden threads on his cloak.

 

“Do you want to put it on?” Merlin asks.

 

Arthur grins. “It would look kind of silly without the armor, don’t you think?”

 

Merlin smiles. “I suppose it would. You’ll just look like a kid on Halloween.”

 

“What’s…Hal-o-weeeen?” Arthur asks in confusion, and Merlin laughs.

 

“I forget. There are still so many things you don’t know, aren’t there?”

 

Arthur smiles, reaching out and grasping Merlin’s right hand tightly in his left. “Well, as you said, we’ll have plenty of time after we’ve destroyed Malus. You can teach me all about the things I still don’t know.”

 

Merlin pauses just the tiniest bit before he answers “yes.” If Arthur wasn’t paying attention he might have missed it. Except he didn’t.

 

“Merlin-”

 

“We’re running out of time, Arthur. It’s almost sunrise. I need to channel my magic into Excalibur.”

 

“Merlin, there’s something you’re not telling me.”

 

Arthur pulls his hand out of Merlin’s and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Merlin shakes his head. “I told you, Arthur. It’s simple. I just transfer the magic into Excalibur, and then all you have to do is stab Malus. We’ll be home in time for tea.”

 

Merlin steps over to the giant tree and picks up the sword from where it lies at its base.

“ _Mer_ lin, this isn’t funny. Tell me what’s going on.”

 

Merlin ignores him. He holds Excalibur’s hilt between both of his hands. “I need total concentration for this, Arthur.”

 

“Merlin, _please_!” Arthur takes a step toward Merlin, but that’s all he can take. He hits an invisible wall that Merlin must have thrust up between them.

 

Merlin starts chanting, and his eyes glow gold and stay that way. Arthur watches silently as Merlin’s magic flows into the sword. He knows it’s working because he can see a steady stream of blue light pulsing out of Merlin’s hands, lighting up the sword’s blade. It shimmers dully in the dark at first, but as Merlin chants faster it glows brighter and brighter. Suddenly, the blade’s glow becomes too intense, and Arthur shields his eyes and turns away.

 

The glow of Merlin’s magic lights up the whole room even behind Arthur’s closed eyes.

 

And then, slowly, the light in the room fades, and Arthur opens his eyes and turns back to Merlin. He turns just in time to watch the golden glow fade from Merlin’s eyes and the last of the blue magic light up the sword.

 

Merlin gasps deeply when it’s over, and he bends in half. Arthur finds that he can move toward Merlin now and he does, hurrying to his side and helping him stand.

 

“Are you all right?” he asks in concern.

 

“I’m…I’m okay,” Merlin replies, breathing heavily. “The spell’s complete. We’re ready.”

 

He holds the sword out in front of him, hilt toward Arthur. Arthur stares at it, and suddenly he’s afraid to touch it.

 

“I just have to stab It?” Arthur asks unsteadily.

 

“Yes. That’s it.”

 

Arthur shakes his head and takes a step back, and the realization of what’s been bothering him hits him like a ton of bricks.

 

“Merlin…what _form_ is Malus going to take?”  


“Wh-what to do you mean?” Merlin murmurs, and the nervousness that Merlin just can’t hide makes Arthur’s heart race.

 

“What _form_ is Malus going to take?” Arthur repeats desperately. “What is It going to look like? Is Malus going to have a form of Its own, or is It…is It going to _possess someone_ …like It did with Sibyl?”

 

“Arthur, I don’t…I don’t know-”

 

“But _you do_. You _do_ know, Merlin. Tell me.”

 

Merlin shakes his head. “Arthur, it’s not-”

 

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Arthur says harshly, stepping as close to Merlin as the sword between them will allow. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me it’s not important.”

 

Arthur notices that Merlin’s trembling, and it mirrors the tremble in Arthur’s own body. “Arthur, please. You have to trust me,” Merlin responds, and Arthur can’t miss the desperation in his voice.

 

“I did, Merlin,” Arthur responds around the growing lump in his throat. “Up until this moment, I did.”

 

“Arthur.” Merlin doesn’t let go of the sword, but he points the tip down at the floor, almost in resignation.

 

Arthur waits, heart pounding in his chest.

 

But he doesn’t get his answer.

 

Without warning, the sun finally rises, shining its light into the throne room from the East. It hits the tree first, causing its leaves to shimmer gold, and when it hits the dragon crest on Arthur’s cloak, Arthur feels the ground beneath them begin to quake.

 

“It’s Malus,” Merlin whispers. “It’s coming. Arthur….”

 

Merlin grabs Arthur’s wrist and shoves Excalibur into his hand. Arthur grips the sword tightly, and he finds that he can’t let go.

 

The light fades from the room just as fast as it came as dark clouds move to cover the sun. Arthur hears thunder rumbling off in the distance, and a streak of lightning hits the sky high above them.

 

“Merlin…stay close to me. Please.”

 

Arthur reaches out to Merlin. He grabs Merlin’s right hand tightly in his left and doesn’t let go.

 

He doesn’t let go when a bolt of lighting strikes the tree next to them.

 

He doesn’t let go when the ground opens up at their feet.

 

Doesn’t let go when the darkness gathering above them moves toward the ground, settling over the crack in front of them.

 

Doesn’t let go when the thunder stops, or when the wind stops howling through the tree next to them, or when the storm cloud in front of them reshapes itself into a dark semblance. The semblance takes on the vague form of a man, and where its eyes would be there’s nothing but two deep pools of never ending darkness.

 

Arthur begins to shiver. The power the semblance exudes is all encompassing, shrouding the room, the two of them, the world itself. Arthur feels It reaching to him, calling out to him, and he finds that he wants to go to It, let It take him.

 

But then Merlin grips his hand tightly, and it’s enough to ground him. Arthur shakes his head and focuses on the feeling of Merlin’s hand in his left, Excalibur in his right. He notices that the sword seems to be giving off a power of its own, but unlike Malus' dark form the blade exudes light, warmth, and safety. Arthur grips it tighter and stares at the form in front of them.

 

But that’s all it is: a form. A wisp of cloud in a vaguely human shape. How is he supposed to stab something so insubstantial?

 

Finally, someone – or rather, some _thing_ – breaks the silence.

 

_Arthur Pendragon. The Great Emrys. I must say, I did not expect you to show._

Malus doesn’t have a mouth, but Arthur hears the words echo in the vast throne room anyway. The sound sets his nerves on edge, makes his blood run cold and the hair on his arms stand on end.

 

“I told you we’d be here,” Merlin responds proudly, his voice projecting loudly. Arthur marvels at the strength he hears in his voice; a strength that Arthur’s not sure he possesses right now.

 

_So you did. And now that you are here…surely now, you must realize the hopelessness of your situation._

“I don’t know about that. There’s two of us against one of you,” Merlin mocks, and Arthur finds himself beaming with pride. Faced by the greatest evil the world has ever known, Merlin can still find the courage to taunt it.

 

Malus laughs, a sound so deep it makes the very earth beneath them tremble, and Arthur feels a shiver run through his body.

 

How’s he supposed to fight when he’s so terrified he can barely stand on his own two feet?

 

_So brave. Even in the face of unspeakable evil, you find courage. I have said it before, Emrys, and I will say it again: I admire your strength._

Merlin scoffs. “You say you admire my strength, Malus. But do you want to know what I think? I think you’re scared of me.”

 

Arthur has to literally bite his tongue to keep from responding. There’s bravery, and then there’s just plain foolishness. What’s Merlin playing at?

 

The temperature in the room drops, and Arthur readjusts his grip on the sword as the shivering increases.

 

_Do not flatter yourself, warlock. It is unbecoming._

“My mistake,” Merlin responds with a slight bow of his head. It’s a mocking gesture, and Malus knows it. The ground begins to tremble harder. “Maybe it’s not fear I’m sensing. Maybe it’s something else. _Jealousy_ perhaps.”

 

Malus actually growls, and the air vibrates around them so violently that all the leaves on the tree next to them fall off at once.

 

_What could a worthless worm like you possibly have that would make pure Evil jealous?_

“Power,” Merlin states simply.

 

The word has an immediate effect on Malus. The storm cloud that composes Its body stops roiling for a just a second, but it’s enough to tell Arthur that Merlin has rattled It.

 

_I have power, warlock. More than you could ever know._

“That’s true, Malus. You have more power than I could ever know what do with. But _it’s not enough_ , is it? You won’t be satisfied until you have it all. And you don’t. Not yet. But there’s more for the taking. And it’s standing right in front of you.”

 

Arthur’s heart drops into his stomach and he stops breathing.

 

Merlin’s plan. What they need to do to destroy Malus. The secret Merlin swore he wasn’t keeping. This is it, right here.

 

“Merlin…no….”

 

Merlin grips Arthur’s hand tightly.

 

And then he lets go.

 

Merlin takes a step toward Malus, and Arthur wants to move but his feet feel like they’re nailed to the floor.

 

“All the power you could ever want is right here. Standing right in front of you. All you have to do is reach out and take it.”

 

It’s too obvious. It has to be. There’s no way Malus will fall for this.

 

Malus laughs deep and long, and Arthur sways on his feet as the ground quakes. A crack begins to open near his feet and Arthur forces them to move as he takes a step to the side.

 

_Are you giving me permission, Merlin?_

Merlin takes two steps closer to Malus. Mere feet separate the two of them.

 

“Yes,” Merlin says clearly.

 

Apparently that’s all that Malus needs to hear.

 

_Well. Who am I to decline such a gracious invitation?_

“NO!”

 

The word rips itself from Arthur’s throat, even as he knows there’s no stopping what’s about to happen.

 

Merlin turns to Arthur with pleading eyes.

 

Merlin knew all along that it would come to this. That there was no other way around it. Malus needs someone to possess…and that someone is Merlin.

 

Arthur will have to kill him.

 

The force of the realization hits him at the same time the storm cloud hits Merlin in the chest, and Merlin smiles at him sadly as the darkness engulfs him.

 

Arthur wants to cry out, to scream his frustrations to the sky, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is a strangled sob.

 

He closes his eyes, unwilling to watch.

 

The sound of laughter forces him to open them, and when he looks at Merlin all he can get out is a whimper of Merlin’s name.

 

Merlin stands in front of him…but he’s not Merlin anymore. His eyes glow a deep, dark red. There’s no warmth in them, no comforting blue or magical gold or even empty black. Fiery red pits stare back at him.

 

Malus laughs again, and the sound of Malus’ laughter coming from Merlin’s throat makes Arthur feel sick.

 

But then Malus frowns, and Arthur feels the slightest glimmer of hope light up in his chest.

 

“ _I do not understand. There is no magic here. There is…nothing.”_

Arthur glances down at Excalibur, still clenched in his right fist. Of course. There’s no magic left in Merlin; all the magic is in Arthur’s sword. It’s just as they planned it.

 

Except that killing Merlin was most certainly _not_ part of the plan.

 

Arthur lifts Excalibur up by his side, and that’s when Malus notices it for the first time.

“ _The sword. The sword holds the power now. Of course._ Arthur.”

 

His name. That voice. It doesn’t sound like Malus at all. It sounds just like Merlin. _His_ Merlin. That stupid, idiotic prat.

 

Malus shakes Merlin’s head, and when he speaks again it’s clearly Malus.

 

“ _Arthur Pendragon. Give me the sword, and I promise I will let Emrys go.”_

Arthur can’t help it. He takes a step closer to Malus.

 

“If I give it to you, will you leave us alone?”

 

“ _Yes.”_

“You swear that you will leave Merlin and me in peace? That you won’t come after us?”

 

_“I swear it.”_

Arthur takes two more steps. For a fraction of a second, Arthur almost believes It. It has this way about It, this way of making you believe whatever It says. But Arthur can feel Excalibur pulsing gently as Merlin’s magic flows through it. It feels warm in Arthur’s hand, and Arthur draws courage from it.

 

He takes another step, now standing so close to Merlin that he can feel Malus’ power coming off of him in waves. Arthur grips Excalibur as tightly as he can and closes his eyes. The sword hums ever so slightly, and when Arthur opens his eyes again he knows what he must do.

 

Using reflexes honed over two thousand years ago, Arthur thrusts Excalibur up toward Merlin’s chest. He presses the blade against Merlin’s heart.

 

And then he stops.

 

He can’t do it. He can’t. Not Merlin. Anyone but Merlin. He only just found him.

 

Malus smirks at him from within Merlin’s body.

 

_“You will not do it, Arthur Pendragon. You could never kill the man you love.”_

The hand gripping his sword starts to tremble, and Arthur looks deep into Merlin’s eyes, searching hard for the one he loves more than anything in the world.

 

_“Do you really think your little magic sword will be enough to defeat me? You are pathetic, Arthur Pendragon. That is the problem with you_ humans _. Love makes you weak. It always has.”_

And then it hits him. Arthur doesn’t just have a magic sword. He has something more powerful: more powerful than magic…more powerful than Evil itself.

 

_Love_.

 

He whispers Merlin’s name, and with a cry, Arthur pushes the blade into his chest.

 

Malus gasps, from shock or surprise Arthur’s not sure.

 

_“That’s…not….”_

 

“I love you, Merlin,” Arthur says quietly, tears falling silently down his cheeks. He lets go of the sword, unable to hold on anymore.

 

_“No…it is not possible.”_

 

The sky begins to lighten overhead, and as Malus dies, the red glow fades from Merlin’s eyes. Arthur sobs at the sight of familiar blue eyes staring back at him again, and Merlin smiles at him ever so slightly. Merlin opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but no sound comes out. Then his eyes fall shut and he collapses to the ground.

 

Arthur’s knees hit the ground as the dark clouds overhead disappear. The wind blows softly once more, scattering the leaves on the throne room floor, and the sun peaks out from behind the now white clouds. A bird twitters softly, landing on a branch of the tree.

 

Arthur doesn’t notice any of it. He only has eyes for Merlin. The man he loves. Dead at his feet.

 

He’s not sure how long it takes him to speak, but when he does, he chokes the words out past the tears in his throat.

 

“ _More_ secrets. After all this time, there were more secrets between us. Haven’t we had enough secrets, Merlin?”

 

Nothing. That’s the answer he gets. Silence.

 

Arthur crawls to Merlin’s side, puts his hands on Excalibur’s hilt, and pulls the sword out of Merlin’s chest. Arthur tosses the sword away with a scream. He digs into Merlin’s chest without thinking, without feeling, and rips out the tip of the blade that’s imbedded itself in Merlin’s heart.

 

Arthur chokes on a sob, dropping the shard on the ground next to him. He ignores the blood dripping down his hands and drags Merlin toward him, cradling his head in his lap.

 

“You knew this was going to happen. You _knew it_. Damn you, Merlin. What about us? All those plans we made…that talk about second chances…how everything that happened in the past doesn’t matter because we're here now, _together_? What about _us_ , Merlin?”

 

There’s still no answer, and Arthur shakes his head and pulls Merlin closer.

 

“Damn you. _Damn you_.” Arthur’s voice catches on a sob. “You _promised,_ Merlin. You _promised._ ” His voice breaks, and when he starts to beg he can barely get the words out. “Merlin…please. You can’t… _stay with me_. Merlin….”

 

He pulls Merlin close to him, feels his head fall limply against his chest, and Arthur can no longer breathe through his sobs. It feels like his whole world is falling apart, and he cradles Merlin against his body and rocks him gently back and forth. He shivers, trembles with grief.

 

When he screams Merlin’s name to the skies in anguish because it’s all too much to bear, no one answers him.

 

_…tbc…_


	12. I'll Be Here to Hold Your Hand

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Chapter Eleven: I’ll Be Here to Hold Your Hand**

 

Merlin’s head rests against Arthur's chest, pressed up against the scar that Arthur bears from Merlin’s magic. His forehead leans against Merlin’s, eyes closed in grief. The shard he pulled out of Merlin’s heart lies next to him, covered in blood.

 

Arthur holds Merlin close to him, and everything else just fades away. He doesn’t notice the bird spread its wings and fly away. He doesn’t notice the wind pick up slightly, leaves and dust swirling against his knees. He doesn’t notice the ray of sunlight that hits Excalibur, shining off the blade.

 

He doesn’t notice the wound on Merlin’s chest glow gold.

 

All he knows is the feel of Merlin lying limp in his arms.

 

In the end, what he _does_ notice is a whisper of his name.

 

“Arthur?”

 

It sounds like Merlin, but it can’t be. Merlin’s dead, and it’s all his fault.

 

“Arthur.”

 

It can’t be.

 

He feels a warm hand against his face, a soft stroke of his cheek.

 

It can’t be.

 

“Merlin?”

 

Arthur’s heart stops in his chest, and he holds his breath and allows himself to hope.

 

He lifts his head away from Merlin’s, and his gaze is met by bright blue eyes and a warm smile.

 

“Merlin?”

 

Merlin tears his eyes away from Arthur and squints up at the sky.

 

“Did we win?”

 

A laugh escapes Arthur’s throat, and when he laughs a second time it comes out nearly hysterical.

 

“You…you beautiful _idiot_.”

 

Arthur grabs Merlin’s face and crashes their lips together. Merlin gasps slightly, then returns it. Tears fall down Arthur’s cheeks, only now they're tears of surprise and joy.

 

Merlin’s _alive_. Arthur has no idea how, and to be honest he doesn’t care. All that matters is Merlin. Merlin wrapping his arms around Arthur, pulling him into a tight hug. Merlin smiling against his neck. Merlin breathing and warm and _alive._

Arthur doesn’t pull away until his heart’s stopped racing and the tears have stopped flowing. When he does, he looks deep into Merlin’s eyes, and he’s never been more grateful for Merlin’s smile.

 

“How…I don’t understand. Merlin, you were _dead._ I stabbed you in the heart. I ripped the blade out of your chest myself.”

 

He shows Merlin his palms, covered in blood from yanking the shard of Excalibur from Merlin’s body.

 

Merlin puts his hand on top of Arthur’s, palm to palm, and closes his eyes.

 

Nothing happens.

 

“Merlin? You just came back to life. Now may not be the best time for magic.”

 

“It’s gone.” Merlin says it so quietly that Arthur’s not sure he heard him right.

 

“What’s gone?”

 

“My magic.”

 

“Merlin.” Arthur turns his hands over and threads his fingers through Merlin’s. “Are you sure?”

 

Merlin nods. “Yes. I’ve been without magic before. I know what it feels like.”

 

Arthur shakes his head. “I don’t understand,” he says, and he laughs gratefully. “How are you alive, Merlin? What happened to your magic?”

 

“I don’t know,” Merlin says with a smile. “But I think I know who might have the answers.”

 

* * *

 

When they reach the Crystal Caves, Arthur pauses. He’s never been inside before. It’s a place of magic, and Arthur’s sure he doesn’t belong. But then Merlin smiles at him and takes his hand.

 

“It’s all right, Arthur. Come inside. There’s someone you should meet.”

 

And so Arthur enters the Crystal Caves for the first time.

 

They follow the blue glow of the crystals to the back of the cave. The sight that greets him is enough to take his breath away.

 

He’s smaller than life, fitting comfortably inside the cave. He also doesn’t look quite…real. More like a reflection in a pond or a ghost, glowing a faint blue to match the crystals. Despite all that, it’s the Great Dragon; no doubt about it.

 

And he’s _smiling_.

 

“The Great Emrys, and the Once and Future King.”

 

Arthur shakes his head in disbelief. The dragon just _spoke_. And Arthur actually _understood him_.

 

“Merlin…Arthur…I knew you could do it.”

 

“Merlin…the dragon is _talking._ How….”

 

Merlin has the nerve to laugh at him. “Arthur…after everything you’ve seen, I would think a talking dragon would be easy to accept.”

 

Arthur turns back to the dragon. “What…how…what do I call you?”

 

The dragon bows his head slightly, as though paying him respect, and Arthur finds himself oddly touched by the gesture.

 

“My name is Kilgharrah. It is an honor to finally meet you, young Pendragon.”

 

“Everyone’s young to him,” Merlin whispers to Arthur, laughing slightly. “He’s ancient.”

 

“I heard that, Merlin. I may be ‘ancient,’ but I am not deaf.”

 

“About that…” Arthur starts nervously. “What _are you_? You cannot be real.”

 

“I died many centuries ago. But there is magic in this cave. There has beensince time long forgotten, and there always will be. You might consider me an echo; a memory of times past. Here I am able to communicate with Merlin, and with you. I may not be alive, but I am no less real than you.”

 

Merlin scoffs next to him, and Arthur turns to find Merlin shaking his head and grinning. “Riddles. You speak in nothing but riddles, old friend. You always have. I suspect that is why I didn’t truly know _everything_ that would happen today?"

 

Kilgharrah shakes his head. “You knew everything you needed to know, Merlin.”

 

“You told me that I would _die,_ Kilgharrah. I saw it happen, in the crystals.”

 

“And you _did die_ , did you not?”

 

“Well…yes. But…I saw Arthur stab me. I saw…I saw myself dead. I saw….” He turns to Arthur, a look of utter sadness in his eyes, and he turns away quickly in shame. “I saw Arthur holding me. I asked you if I would die, and you said yes. You never said anything about me coming back.”

 

Kilgharrah settles himself on the ground in front of Merlin, bringing his head down closer to them.

 

“I did not lie to you, Merlin. I told you that you would die, and you did. But I did not mean that all of you would die. You lost a part of yourself today, Merlin: your magic. _That_ is what died.”

 

Merlin throws his head back and groans, and Arthur can’t tell if he’s actually mad. But when he looks back at the dragon, he’s smiling just the slightest.

 

“ _Why_ must you always speak in riddles? You couldn’t have just _told me that_?” Merlin asks in exasperation, but Arthur can sense from Merlin’s nervous breathlessness that he’s too relieved at being _alive_ to really be angry with his old friend.

 

“Merlin…part of the magic needed for the spell required that you not know.”

 

Arthur wasn’t expecting that response. “What do you mean?” he asks curiously.

 

Kilgharrah turns briefly to him before speaking to Merlin. “Sacrifice. Merlin needed to face Malus believing that he would die; believing that he was sacrificing his future with you to save the world. Selflessness and sacrifice were a necessary part of the magic needed to destroy Malus – perhaps the most important part. You both should understand by now what the greatest weapon against evil really is.”

 

It hits Arthur all at once. The spell, the final confrontation, it's all starting to make sense. Arthur turns to Merlin and hopes that he can see it, too.

 

Merlin reaches out and grabs Arthur’s hand, gripping it tightly, and Arthur knows that he does.

 

“Love,” Merlin answers with a smile.

 

Kilgharrah nods in response. Then he looks at their entwined hands and smiles. The smile softens the old dragon’s features, and Arthur finds that he’s no longer intimidated by him.

 

“Love. Yes. Merlin’s love for Arthur, as he was willing to sacrifice the life he wanted to share with Arthur in order to save him.” Kilgharrah turns to Arthur as he continues. “Arthur’s love for Merlin, because Arthur was willing to lose the man he loved, knowing that it was his wish.” He sits up straighter to shift his gaze to both of them. “And the love you both showed for the world. Willing to sacrifice each other, the life you wanted together, in order to save humanity. Merlin’s magic, combined with the power of the sacrifice, was enough to cancel out Malus’ evil.”

 

“That’s why my magic is gone. I gave it up to the sword, and when it cancelled out Malus’ dark magic, I lost it.”

 

Kilgharrah nods. “I am sorry, young warlock. Your magic is gone.”

 

Arthur grips Merlin’s hand tightly. Just like that? Merlin’s magic is really gone for good? He looks toward Merlin, ready to tell him how sorry he is.

 

But the look on Merlin’s face surprises him. He looks…grateful. Merlin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and when he opens them again it’s as though a great weight has finally been lifted from his shoulders.

 

“It really is gone. I don’t believe it. I didn’t…I didn’t think it was possible. After almost two thousand years….”

 

“How does it feel, Merlin?” Arthur asks quietly.

 

Merlin turns to him with a smile purer than anything Arthur has seen since he returned.

 

“It feels like _I’m free._ ”

 

Arthur grins and pulls Merlin into a tight hug. Arthur's happy for him, he truly is. But there’s a part of him – a very small, very selfish part – that will miss Merlin’s magic.

 

As they pull away, Merlin kisses him gently. “You were right, Arthur. Good really _is_ greater than evil.”

 

Arthur laughs with a shake of his head. “I told you, Merlin. I learned that _from you_ , many years ago.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you did. It’s just…I guess I just needed a reminder.”

 

Arthur smiles and kisses him again. “ _This_ is the Merlin that I missed: the one who always believed that good would triumph.”

 

Merlin smirks against his lips and pulls back. “I think, Arthur…you may get to see him again.”

 

Arthur smiles at him happily.

 

A quiet snort reminds them that they’re not the only ones in this cave. They turn back to the dragon, and though Merlin blushes at being caught in the moment, Arthur couldn’t care less.

 

“I know you did not expect this to happen, but it has. You are _free_ , young warlock; for the first time in nearly two millennia. You must also realize, Merlin, that this means you will finally age like everyone else.”

 

Merlin suddenly grins, and he lets out a giddy, childish laugh that makes him seem like he really is only twenty odd years old and not two thousand.

 

“This means I won’t have to live without you, Arthur. With any luck, we have sixty years ahead of us, and we can spend them _together_.”

 

Arthur kisses Merlin on the top of the head, happy at the thought that they will not need to face the idea of living without each other ever again.

 

“We should return to Windermere, as we said we would. Maybe we can help to reunite the villages, make a new start in this world.”

 

Merlin nods. “We can keep our promise, Arthur. _We will_. But we need to return to Camelot first. I have a feeling that the spell surrounding it will fade now that my magic is gone.”

 

Arthur ponders the idea. Will Camelot finally fall without Merlin’s magic? The city, the castle, his sword, their cottage…will it continue to stand without Merlin’s magic, or will it crumble into dust and be lost to time?

 

Kilgharrah nods his head sadly. “Yes, Merlin. It will be slow, but in time Camelot will fall to ruin, as all things must.”

 

“Then we will return to say goodbye,” Arthur assures Merlin, gripping his hand tightly. “I will miss it, and I will always be grateful to you for saving it for me, Merlin. But it’s time to move on.”

 

Merlin nods in agreement. “It is.” He turns to the dragon, a look of concern on his face. “My old friend…will I ever see you again?”

 

The dragon looks down at the ground, and Arthur’s surprised to see a glittering tear fall down his cheek.

 

“This is the last we will see of each other, Merlin. The magic of the caves has allowed me to stay, but only to say goodbye. Without your magic, there is nothing holding me to this world.”

 

“I understand. But does that mean…is _all_ magic gone from the world, then?”

 

Kilgharrah looks up once more, and there’s hope in his ancient eyes. “Magic will never truly be gone, Merlin. Magic has existed for as long as the world has, and even longer, and it will continue to exist long after the world has faded from memory. You will never be in touch with it again, Merlin, but do not despair. It is not gone forever.”

 

Merlin smiles. “I’m…I’m grateful for that,” he replies sincerely. “I suppose that this is goodbye then?”

 

Kilgharrah nods. He turns to Arthur once more.

 

“Young Pendragon, my Once and Future King.” Kilgharrah bows his whole body this time, resting his head on the ground at Arthur’s feet. “It has been an honor to have known you. You will not be able to help everyone in the years to come, but you will set in motion events that will ensure the safety and betterment of humanity. You have done much good in this world, Arthur, but I see that this is only the beginning.”

 

Arthur smiles. “This is good news,” he responds. “If my destiny is to help build a better world…I can’t imagine anything I would rather do.” He bows his head to Kilgharrah. “It was good to meet you.”

 

The dragon smiles back at him before turning to Merlin.

 

“Merlin…do you remember what I said to you the night Arthur died, all those years ago?”

 

“I remember everything you say to me, Kilgharrah. It has been a privilege to have known you. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.”

 

The old dragon smiles. “I could not now choose better words with which to say goodbye. You have a good life ahead of you, Merlin. You worked hard for it, and you have earned it. I wish nothing but the best…for both of you.”

 

Merlin smiles at the dragon, and Arthur watches tears fall silently down his face. “I could not have asked for better counsel over these long years…or for a better _friend_. The privilege has been mine. Goodbye, old friend.”

 

“Be well, young warlock.”

 

Merlin and Arthur watch in silence as the image of the Great Dragon fades slowly into the air, dissolving in a haze of blue. The crystals continue to light up the cave, but it seems…darker, and emptier, somehow, with the dragon gone.

 

But then Merlin turns to him and kisses him fiercely, and the cave itself seems to melt away around them.

 

“Come on, Arthur. We have sixty years at best. I don’t plan on wasting a second of it.”

 

* * *

 

 

After leaving the cave, Merlin and Arthur explore the ruins of Camelot.

 

One last time.

 

They wander the town, passing familiar spots. The tavern, Gwen’s old house, the street where they first met.

 

Already they find that Merlin’s magic is fading. Buildings that once stood half formed have fallen completely. Vines and bushes creep over piles of wood and stone, as though trying to make up for centuries of lost time.

  
They reach the castle and find that the steps are starting to crumble. They walk tentatively inside, finding more dust and dirt on the floors than there was when they left it earlier that morning.

 

It makes Arthur sad to see it, but it’s not like the first time he walked these halls after returning to life. As sad as it is, Arthur finds that he’s ready to say goodbye.

 

They reach the throne room and find Excalibur on the floor where they left it, its tip lying a few feet away, still stained with Merlin’s blood.

 

Wordlessly, Merlin and Arthur pick up the pieces of the Sword in the Stone. Arthur gathers the tip and uses his shirt along with a bit of rainwater he finds in a hole in the floor to carefully clean it. Merlin takes the hilt, lifting it reverently as always, glancing at the words written in gold on the blade.

 

Merlin asks Arthur what they should do with sword; if they should bring it out of Camelot and try to get it reforged. But Arthur shakes his head. They won’t need it anymore; not where they’re going. It belongs in Camelot, in the world and ways of the past. Arthur suggests they leave it in the throne room, at the base of the tree, as a reminder of what happened here: how Good overcame Evil.

 

So they take Arthur’s cloak down from the branches and lay it on the ground at the foot of the majestic tree, next to Arthur's armor and chainmail. Merlin lays Excalibur down on top of the cloak, and Arthur places the broken tip near the damaged end where it belongs. The golden dragon sigil faces up, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it and causing the air around it to sparkle.

 

Arthur asks Merlin how long it will take Camelot to fall. Merlin admits that, while he’s not sure, he knows that much of it will crumble quickly. Remnants of magic remain in the land. After two thousand years of being so in tune with his own magic, Merlin can _feel it_ in the air around them, though he can’t grasp it himself. He can also feel it fading, and he knows that, given time, the castle, the town, and their cottage will tumble and fall.

 

And Arthur tells him that it’s okay. Camelot will always hold a special place in his heart. But the only reason Camelot still exists is because Merlin wanted Arthur to have a place to come home to; it’s the same reason why he built the cabin. Only Arthur doesn’t need Camelot anymore. His home is _Merlin_ , and having Merlin alive and with him is all he needs.

 

So they return to their cabin and rest. They take one of Merlin’s favorite books outside to the little garden and Merlin tells Arthur a story about a girl with flaming red hair and violet eyes named Alanna, who wanted more than anything to become a knight. Though women were not allowed to be knights, she hid her true identity and became squire to the prince himself. She had magic, and in the end she used it to save her prince and her kingdom. Merlin admits that he loves her character the most because she reminds him of himself: someone who was willing to hide who he really was because all he wanted to do was protect people; to protect his king.

 

Arthur pulls Merlin close and kisses him gently, and they hold each other there in the garden, amongst the flowers and the earth, for hours, before heading in to bed.

 

The next morning, they eat breakfast and begin to pack. They pack up everything they think they will want. They choose their favorite books, including some that Merlin insists Arthur must read for himself. They choose some of the photos and art from the walls – those that aren’t so old that they’re already beginning to crumble to dust on the floor. Merlin tries to take the moving picture he made of Arthur all those years ago, but when he touches it it disintegrates in his hand. But that’s okay, Merlin assures him: he has the real thing now. Merlin _does_ take Arthur’s old sigil and the dragon his father carved him. The sigil is beginning to color with age, and the dragon feels soft in his hands, but he takes them anyway. Maybe someday he’ll remake them…with his own hands.

 

When they’ve packed up all they can carry, they quietly leave Camelot behind and begin the journey back to Windermere. They both feel a small ache for the world they’re leaving behind, but they find a hope for the future that’s ten times stronger. They’re ready to build a new life for themselves and maybe for the world.

 

They’re ready to find a home.

 

* * *

 

 

On their way back to Windermere, Arthur shares with Merlin his fear that Malus may have attacked the village in their absence. Merlin smiles and admits that he already thought about that, and so he put a few spells on Windermere the night before they left, just in case Malus decided to hit them where it would hurt. When they make it to the village, they’re both happy to find that nothing has changed; the evil Malus wrought over the past two weeks never touched it.

 

The children, the younger adults, and Sibyl are all happy to have them back. The older adults and the elderly smile politely and quickly go back to their work. Arthur’s pretty sure none of them have any idea just what he and Merlin have done for them.

 

But Sibyl gives both of them big hugs and calls them heroes.

 

That night they have a celebration. Many of the older children and the younger men and women thank them for what they did for the world. Sibyl admits that she may have told the entire village about their quest at the last village meeting. The ones who trust Sibyl, who truly believe in her gift, were easy to persuade, and they make their gratitude known throughout the night. Samuel, the young boy that Merlin grew so attached to during their stay, can’t hear enough of their tale, and Arthur tells it at least five times, embellishing the story more and more as the evening progresses. By the end of the night, the story goes that Arthur fought off a hundred demonic minions left and right with his sword, while Merlin fried them, blew them up, and burned them away with magical balls of fire and blue energy.

 

It’s only when one of the smallest boys asks Merlin to make the dragon dance in the flames for them that the celebration takes on a more somber tone. Merlin explains gently that his magic is gone, and there’s a hint of sadness in his voice. The children are disappointed, but then Arthur tells them they can still have fun, promising a good old fashioned sword fight.

 

As the children run off to find sticks to use for their swords, Arthur searches around the campfire for one of his own. However, he can’t help but notice how quiet Merlin is next to him. So Arthur walks up behind him and pulls him close against his chest, kissing the top of his head.

 

“Do you miss it?” he asks gently.

 

“No,” Merlin answers. But then, after a pause, “Well…maybe a little.”

 

“It’ll take some getting used to. But I’ll be here to help you through it. I promise.” Arthur turns him around and kisses him firmly. Just when Merlin starts to deepen the kiss, Arthur smacks Merlin’s ass playfully with the stick hidden behind his back.

 

Merlin squeaks and jumps away, and Arthur laughs as he bends over and picks up a second stick. “Come on, Merlin. Let’s go be heroes.”

 

_…to be concluded…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Merlin reads to Arthur about a knight named Alanna is called “Alanna: The First Adventure.” It’s the first book in the Song of the Lioness Quartet by Tamora Pierce. It’s one of my favorite books/series ever and the basis of my username (“lioness” being replaced by “lionheart” for Merlin). It’s a fantastic series with great characters and lessons and a strong female lead. Read it if you haven’t already. :)


	13. You're My King and I'm Your Lionheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just need to make a small retraction. I wrote in an earlier chapter that Samuel (the little boy at the daycare that Merlin becomes attached to) was the son of the chief elder. To better serve where I want the epilogue to go, that needs to be changed. Samuel is just the son of a regular villager, not the chief elder. Sorry. Now onto the ending! :)

**As the World Comes to an End**

**Epilogue: You’re My King and I’m Your Lionheart**

 

 

Merlin and Arthur stay at Windermere for a good twenty years.

 

Within their first year, Arthur becomes Chief Elder. The laws of the village have always been relaxed, and the previous Chief Elder has been too old for his job for nearly five years, with no children to take his place. And so, at the yearly electoral meeting during their first summer in Windermere, the Chief Elder agrees to let a vote determine their next elder. Arthur receives more nominations than anyone, and when the decision is put to a vote he wins in a landslide.

 

Over the long years, Arthur does what he can to build and expand – not just the village, but the country as well.

 

He starts off small, expanding the borders of Windermere, building it up to better withstand the cold months and the dry spells and the floods. He visits a few of the smaller neighboring villages, those that are failing or slowly dying. He offers to help them rebuild their own land if he can, or offers them a place in Windermere. The village, which has long since become their home, quickly becomes a small town. As the reputation of not only Windermere but Arthur Pendragon himself begins to grow, more and more people move there. More people means more mouths to feed, but it also means more hands to work and build and farm. More families and children. More laughter and life.

 

Arthur is known far and wide as a fair, just, and caring leader; a man with strong ambitions and the drive to see them achieved. Word begins to travel across the country. Over his first decade as Elder, people flock from all corners to join his village. As Windermere begins to push her boundaries, Arthur finds it necessary to turn people away. But he encourages them to join the villages nearby, sometimes to build their own, and soon the countryside up and down the river is overflowing with life and prosperity.

 

Arthur joins many of the communities together. He forms treaties with them, letting them govern themselves as they see fit, but they help each other through rough times. They offer each other aid in times of sickness, rebuild in the wake of harsh weather, and offer food and clothing in times of need. He offers treaties to all the villages around Windermere, traveling far and wide (with Merlin always at his side). He always leaves those who don’t want to join him in peace.

 

Over the years, not everyone approves of Arthur’s attempts to join the country together. They see him as power hungry, claim that he must have some hidden agenda. More than anything, they’re afraid that he’ll rise to be a tyrannical dictator like those of times past.

 

Nearly a decade into Arthur’s rule, three of the villages who don’t approve of Arthur join together and storm Windermere. They don’t hurt the villagers, but instead force their way to the city square with weapons raised and demand an audience with Arthur.

 

But when Arthur meets with them, he refuses to fight. He tells his own citizens to lay down any weapons they may have brought out, and they all obey. Arthur tells the small army that the only weapons they have in Windermere are used for hunting for food, and they’ll never be used for anything else. Arthur has not forced them to join with him, and he never will. He tells them that he will not fight them, and he asks that they extend the same courtesy and that they leave his people alone.

 

In the end, the army disperses peacefully, its members returning to their own villages. A few years later, two of the villages join with Arthur while the third disbands, its people moving off to different parts of the country in search of something else.

 

* * *

 

Arthur doesn’t do anything alone. Merlin remains a firm fixture at his side, just as he had all those years ago. He counsels him, encourages him, gives him strength, and loves him unconditionally.

 

While Arthur easily transitions into their new life in the village, Merlin seems a bit off. Arthur quickly begins to realize it’s the loss of his magic that’s bothering Merlin. Merlin seemed so free and even _happy_ about the loss of his magic when they were in the caves. But after two thousand years of having it, Arthur can understand why Merlin finds it so hard to cope without it now. The biggest problem is that Merlin wants to help out more; he wants to use his magic to hunt, to build things, to make their lives easier. He knows how to do things with his hands, of course, but there are things he can’t do as well as he could with his magic.

 

He misses his ability to heal more than anything. When Merlin sees the first case of real sickness spread through Windermere, he feels completely useless. All he can do is play nurse and hope for the best.

 

During one particularly bad bout of something not even Sibyl can identify, nearly a hundred people die. One night, Arthur finds Merlin sobbing by the riverside under their favorite tree in the orchard. Merlin’s inconsolable. Arthur holds him, and all he can get out of him is “worthless” and “useless” and “broken.” It’s when Merlin sobs, “What good am I without my magic?” that Arthur pulls back and kisses him. It’s a salty, wet, messy kiss, but it’s what Merlin needs.

 

“Shut up, Merlin. For once in your life, _shut up_.” Arthur kisses him again, and Merlin recovers enough to kiss him back for a second before pulling away.

 

“Arthur, what-”

 

“You’re not _broken_ , Merlin. Or worthless, or useless. You don’t need your magic. It was a part of you, of course it was, but that’s not all there is to you. The world still needs _you,_ Merlin. _I_ still need you. Where would I be without you?”

 

“Arthur…you’d have done all this without me.”

 

It’s like two thousand years ago all over again. Except this time, Arthur doesn’t hold back. He pulls Merlin close and kisses him firmly. When he finally pulls away, he whispers: “Never.”

 

After that night, Arthur makes sure to remind Merlin over and over again that he’s more than his magic. That he’s important because he’s _Merlin_ , not because he was a sorcerer. Arthur doesn’t need Merlin’s magic, he just needs Merlin. Merlin, after all, is more than enough.

 

Merlin insists many times over the years that Arthur could do this without him. And each time he says it, Arthur shuts him up with a kiss and responds: “Never.”

 

And eventually, in time, Merlin begins to believe him.

 

* * *

 

During their first few years in Windermere, Arthur becomes increasingly attached to the young boy Samuel. At the age of 8, Samuel becomes an orphan when he loses his father to the worst sickness the village has ever seen. One of the older village widows who tends at the daycare takes him into her home.

 

Merlin and Arthur visit Samuel whenever they can, and Arthur begins to appreciate why Merlin likes the boy so much. While Arthur believes that Samuel is more like Merlin than anyone, he begins to see himself in the boy as well. He’s headstrong but still self conscious; good at getting what he wants but caring. By the age of eleven, Arthur sees a real potential for leadership in Samuel.

 

Arthur’s busy schedule doesn’t leave much time for the three of them to spend together, but Merlin and Arthur do spend as much time with Samuel as they can. In time, they both begin to care for him like a son, and Samuel quickly begins to see them as more than just the Chief Elder and his Advisor. When Samuel turns twelve, the widow who’s been raising him offers to care for two 5 year old twins who lost their father in a hunting accident. In order to better cope with caring for two young children, she asks Arthur and Merlin if they would like to continue caring for Samuel.

 

They don’t even need to discuss it.

 

* * *

 

Over the years to come, Arthur and Merlin raise Samuel as their own. Merlin insists that they let Samuel remain a kid for as long as possible, and Arthur wholeheartedly agrees.

 

But by the age of fourteen, Samuel is brimming with curiosity and questions about running the village. He wants to learn everything Arthur has to teach him about leadership. And so Arthur quickly becomes Samuel’s mentor as well as father. Samuel is a worthy protégé, learning quickly and eagerly. While Merlin and Arthur mourn the loss of his innocence, his genuine desire to help the village, to make life easier, and to find peace with the rest of the country makes both of them beam with pride.

 

* * *

 

As the years go by, Arthur passes more and more of his responsibilities onto Samuel. He and Merlin spend quiet time in the fields and orchards: farming, harvesting, helping to build and rebuild houses and expand the village.

 

Arthur loves every second of leading Windermere, uniting the villages, and raising Samuel, always with Merlin by his side. But twenty years into his role as leader of New England, Arthur begins to feel _tired_. More then anything, though, he begins to miss the quiet time he used to spend alone with Merlin: just the two of them and no one else.

 

When Arthur turns 50, he and Merlin agree it’s time for them to move on. They want to spend some time away from the rest of the world. Together, and in peace.

 

“I’ll do my best to lead the people in your stead, Arthur,” Samuel promises. “But…I’ll miss you both so much. Thank you for caring for me like I was your own.”

Merlin and Arthur hug Samuel close, and Merlin swears:

 

“We will always love you as our son.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin and Arthur spend a few years quietly traveling the country, marveling at how New England is beginning to flourish. In the end, they travel to Scotland and retire on a small piece of land they can call their own, and they build a farm. It’s quiet, and quaint, but it’s theirs.

 

Over the years they tend to their farm and pass their time together peacefully. Merlin reads Arthur some of their favorite stories, along with a few new books they’ve collected over the years. Though Arthur’s more than capable of reading the books himself, he still likes it more than anything when Merlin reads them to him.

 

“‘Once upon a time – for that is how all stories should begin – there was a boy who lost his mother.’”

 

“Are you sure this isn’t my story, Merlin?” Arthur asks.

 

Merlin shows him the cover of the book he’s reading. “It’s called ‘The Book of Lost Things,’ Arthur. And you’re going to love it. I promise.”

 

Eventually, Arthur begins to write _their_ _story_ : the story of Arthur and Merlin. Knight and Sorcerer. Ruler and Advisor. The two men whose love once saved the world. Merlin adds some of his own stories to the middle of the book, to cover the time when Arthur was gone. One book quickly becomes two, and by the time it’s done it spans the equivalent of what Arthur likes to call “Ten Game of Thrones.” They call their saga “King and Lionheart.”

 

“But what does it mean, Merlin?” Arthur asks.

 

Merlin smiles.

 

“It was a beautiful song, Arthur. I wish you could have heard it.”

* * *

 

Arthur and Merlin return to Windermere many times over the years. They visit with Sibyl, who never marries but assures them that, as Chief Healer and Midwife, she is happier than she’s ever been. Samuel marries a beautiful woman named Jessica who works in the orchards, and they have three children together, two boys and a girl. Samuel becomes a good father and a real leader, one Merlin and Arthur “couldn’t be more proud of.”

 

“What can I say, Dad?” Samuel always responds with a grin. “I learned from the best.”

On their last trip to Windermere, Merlin and Arthur give Samuel their book in the hopes that he and future generations can learn from it. Samuel smiles bravely through his tears when he reads the dedication.

 

_To our dearest Samuel: Family doesn’t end with blood. You have always been and will always be our son. We couldn’t be prouder of the man you have become. The world will be a brighter place because of you._

Samuel hugs them both and whispers:

 

“The world is already a better place because of _you_.”

* * *

 

On their way home from passing on their life story to Samuel, Merlin and Arthur visit the ruins of London so Arthur can finally see just what a big city looks like. Nobody lives there, even still. Nothing grows and the air still reeks of smoke and death. Arthur’s heard a lot about big cities and how they used to work, especially this one. Merlin shows him what’s left of some of the best spots. The Tower Bridge, the Eye, Buckingham Palace, and Big Ben.

 

Arthur is amazed and awed at the size of the place, and the beauty of the architecture. As much as he likes it though, Arthur hates that it feels like a ghost town.

 

“It makes me sad, Merlin. I wish I could have seen what it was like when people lived here.”

 

“I wish you could have, too.”

 

In the end, Arthur kisses Merlin fondly by one of the fountains in Trafalgar Square and thanks him.

 

* * *

 

Merlin and Arthur spend the last five years of their life growing old together. And it’s there, in the bright, peaceful mornings and the long, quiet evenings, that Merlin finds his magic isn’t entirely gone after all.

 

Slowly but surely, the smallest bits of Merlin’s magic come back to him.

 

“But I thought Kilgharrah said your magic was gone for good?” Arthur questions.

 

Merlin just smiles.

 

“In two thousand years, it’s the only thing he’s ever really been wrong about.”

 

Merlin spends many of his afternoons on the porch, under the apple trees, and by the side of the lake, trying to get his magic to come back to him. In the end, he can only do little things. He can make flowers bloom, recreate the blue ball of light that led Arthur to the Morteous flower all those years ago, create small blue fires in his palms and golden dragons in the flames of their fire. Merlin grows frustrated at the fact that he can’t do anything more, but Arthur comforts him.

 

“ _This_ is what I’ve always loved most about your magic, Merlin. All these small, whimsical things. The little stuff that always makes you smile.”

 

He kisses Merlin fondly to prove his point.

 

“I can’t bear to see you upset, Merlin. Not over something like this. If this is all the magic that comes back to you, then so be it. So long as it makes you _smile_.”

Merlin takes Arthur’s words to heart, and he smiles. He makes sure to smile every day, as often as he can. He makes the blue ball of light sparkle above their bed. He makes the flowers bloom during the day and the dragons dance in the flames at night. And he does all of it for Arthur, because Merlin finds that when he smiles, Arthur smiles back, and it’s all that Merlin has ever wanted and more.

 

The one thing Merlin can’t seem to do is make the blue butterflies. They were Arthur’s favorite, and Merlin tries his hardest to make them again. But for some reason, he just can’t do it.

 

Arthur holds Merlin close at night, their blue light shining quietly overhead, and tells him he doesn’t need any butterflies.

 

“All I need is _you_.”

 

* * *

 

One morning, Merlin wakes to tell Arthur that Camelot has fallen.

 

“I saw it, Arthur. The castle, the town, our cabin. It’s all gone. The only thing left is the tree. And Excalibur. It’s still broken, but it’s there, right where we left it…and it always will be. As long as there’s the smallest bit of magic in the world, it will wait until someone worthy comes along to claim it.”

Arthur doesn’t ask how Merlin knows this. He just pulls him close as they allow themselves to grieve.

 

* * *

  
 

That night, Arthur wakes to find himself alone. The light that normally floats overhead – a quiet, comforting sentinel – has gone out. Arthur pulls himself out of bed, grabs his cane, and shuffles slowly to the front door. He finds Merlin sitting on the porch steps, his hands cupped slightly. Arthur sits down carefully, ignoring the arthritis in his knees and the constant pain in his back. He spies a faint glow coming from between Merlin’s old, gnarled hands, and he assumes it’s their blue ball of light.

 

But then Merlin looks up at him, tears in his eyes, and opens his hands.

 

A small blue butterfly flutters out. It hovers in front of them for a few seconds, glowing bright enough to put the stars above them to shame. Then it flies around them once and soars off into the sky.

 

As Merlin cries, Arthur holds him close, pressing gentle kisses to every part of him he can reach, brushing away his tears and whispering:

 

_“I love you.”_

 

Merlin doesn’t try to make another butterfly. He knows deep down inside that he’ll never make another. But Arthur tells him it doesn’t matter. It was beautiful just the same, and after all:

 

“We got to see it one last time.”

Merlin and Arthur help each other up off the porch and back into bed. They talk about everything and nothing that night. Arthur talks about how grateful he is that he was able to get the old Merlin back. Merlin responds that he only feels like himself when he’s with Arthur.

 

Neither of them is sure how long they lie awake. They do know one thing, though.

“I waited a hundred lifetimes for you, Arthur. And I would have waited a hundred more.”

 

Arthur smiles, tears springing to his eyes. “Well, you don't have to wait anymore. I'll be with you again soon, Merlin. I promise.”

 

They pass peacefully in their sleep…together. And when they reach Avalon, they greet each other as old friends.

 

* * *

 

That evening, deep in the Rocky Mountains of the United States, a baby girl is born. She cries loudly, and when she opens her eyes, they shine with gold.

_THE END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book that Merlin reads to Arthur is called “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. It’s a story about stories and a book about books; a tale about the power of stories and the power of reading to change lives. I highly recommend it to fans of fantasy and all fans of reading.
> 
> It took me a lot longer to finish this story than I ever intended, and I’m sorry about that. Life has a way of getting in the way of things we really want to do but don’t necessarily have the time or energy for. 
> 
> I just want to say that I wrote this story for the ending. Not just the “happy ending,” but the ending where Arthur makes a difference with Merlin to help him and they get to be together by themselves at the end of their lives. They get to pass away at the same time just as Merlin’s magic comes back to him. I was able to give them the ending that they should have gotten; that’s all I wanted from the beginning and what I feel like we were kind of robbed of in the finale.
> 
> I was also excited for the idea of Merlin’s magic being passed on. This ending, and the part where Arthur stabs Merlin and Merlin loses his magic but doesn’t die, were the very first imaginings I had of this story. They were the ideas I had in the shower one morning and wrote down as soon as I got out, even though it made me late for work. These were the things that I knew I wanted to have and that never changed no matter how much this story evolved. I really enjoyed writing this even though it took me longer than it should have. There are a few moments in here that I’m very proud of, and some things that I know could use some editing; but overall I’m very happy with this story. I hope you enjoyed it, too. Thanks for reading! :)


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